On sappiness.


rough times

That’s my belly at 30 weeks.

At the time this picture was taken, I was on doctor-ordered bedrest. Ten glorious weeks of rest until A arrived (or so I thought). I spent a lot of that time watching movies, reading books, doing typical “nesting” things…

And then things changed. Quickly.

I ended up having him at 36 weeks, a whole month earlier than anticipated. It was -as expected- a total explosion of conflicting emotions: was I excited that I was finally “done” being pregnant, or was I terrified that I now had a baby to take care of wayyyy earlier than I thought I would? It was such an intense, intense time.

While I was pregnant, I hated it. I had terrible, terrible morning sickness that lasted most of my pregnancy. I got awful food poisoning during Christmas weekend. I gained almost 30 pounds of just water weight. I developed preeclampsia. Every day, I would look at my body in the mirror and say “Never, ever again.”

It pains me to have that recollection now because I realize, almost four months after giving birth, that I will never have that experience again.

I will never be pregnant with my first baby ever again.

I will never deliver my first baby ever again.

I will never learn how to be a mom to my first baby ever again.

I am so nostalgic for that time now, and I truly never thought I would say that.

I really miss that nervous anticipation of wanting to meet my baby. I really miss the quiet times early in the morning in the hospital, when it was just me & A watching the sun come up. I really miss getting to know him initially, trying to figure out his sneaky baby ways.

I don’t know where all of this nostalgia is coming from. Parenthood turns you into a giant sap, I guess.