I.M.A. - the pregnancy

I ask you this - before you ever became a mother - did you really know just what you were getting into? did anyone tell you that the hard times would be unbelievably hard and that the good times would bring you more joy then you thought was possible? I always thought I'd have four kids. More than that is just plain crazy, having only two seemed so sad (besides, if you're mad at each other - who do you play with? coming from a family with 8 kids - i could be fighting with 2 or 3 siblings and still have plenty leftover), and you can't have just three because then one child never has a partner for the Disneyland rides... so four seemed like the perfect number. But once i had experienced pregnancy and the beginnings of motherhood, i knew i was in trouble. I've concluded that no one could ever have properly prepared me for either.

i figure that today we'll start with the pregnancy.

this is how pregnancy was described to me....

"from the minute you find out you're pregnant it's nothing but exciting, happy times. you don't start showing for awhile because it's your first, so be patient, you'll show eventually. You may feel a little morning sickness, but it's not too bad, especially because you'll look so beautiful with that pregnancy glow. And when the baby kicks it's so fun and very bonding for you both. In the end, when labor starts you just stay focused on that precious baby and you won't need an epidural - because once the baby is born, you hold this beautiful little angel, and all thoughts of pain are gone. Everything comes so naturally as you simply love this new life you've brought forth."

And what it's really like...

As soon as you see that positive sign on the stick you are excited and happy for about 5 minutes, when a wave of "what have we done" hits you as you realize there's no going back - especially (if you're anything like me) when you wake up the next morning to find your pants are already feeling tight. (when my body realizes it's pregnant it figures there's no sense in waiting 4 or 5 months to get big - might as well get a head start on that process).

Once the panic subsides and you start looking forward to the next nine months you begin to feel ill and tired. Ill as in, you're trying to figure out where in the world you could have come in contact with the west nile virus, and tired as in the life blood is somehow being sucked out of you leaving you useless to the world by 7:30 p.m. And the pregnancy glow is really just perspiration from the hot flashes that will be your constant guide for the next nine months.

Thankfully, 6 months later, you're officially in maternity clothes - which feel heavenly after using rubber bands to keep your pants up for way too long - and people are now giving you the look of "oh, cute, she's pregnant" instead of "is she getting fat? i swear she's putting on weight. she definitely didn't look that big last time i saw her". Soon the kicking begins, which is magical and wonderful until the foot finds your bladder and starts playing the how-fast-can-mommy-run-to-the-bathroom game. Eventually the baby turns and it changes to the i-know-i-can-break-this-rib-if-i-kick-just-right game. These games wouldn't be so bad if you actually slept longer then 3 hours, did not waddle everywhere you went and was not the size of a small elephant.(Aaron and i were at the airport and he actually went to the ticket guy at the door and said, "I was wondering if we could preboard. i don't have a toddler, but i do have a waddler." it was sad, but true, i waddled. That same day I was trying on a shirt and was worried that my back had gone from one fat roll to two and asked Aaron if he thought it looked really bad. his comment was, "Um, I figure you have about 2 or 3 more pounds before you should stop wearing that shirt." for the love. at least he's honest) And then the heartburn begins. No matter how severe the pain, you are constantly reassured it's only heartburn and that you will not die at any moment from a heart attack. this is the point where Costco bottles of TUMS are always within reach.

Finally, the night you've been waiting for has arrived. You've made it through the sickness, sleepless nights, hormone swings you never thought possible, weight gain that made your husband nervous (though he'd never admit it) and all this for that magical moment... birth. May we all take a moment of silence, with respect and appreciation, for our dear friend - The Epidural. (However, this particular friend had other obligations in my most critical hour and left. I have three words for what resulted in that kind of behavior - Ring Of Fire. For those male readers, i won't elaborate, let me just say it wasn't pretty.)

At last, one final push, the baby is here and you're anxious to see him because all the pain and trauma you've just experienced will disappear, just like mom promised. And yet, as they put him on your stomach - this crying, wrinkled, not so clean (but very precious) baby - the pain does not disappear and you're still shaking from what you've gone through. and you're thinking 'any time now mom, seriously, i'm looking at the baby - why is that pain not magically gone' and the nurse is telling you to kiss the baby, but you're still trying to come to terms with what your body has just been through and you're starting to realize the pain is not magically disappearing and how fast can you say 'narcotics please'.

I didn't realize it, at the time, but i think this was the start of I.M.A. (Imperfect Mother's Anonymous), because when all was quiet and I was really holding my baby for the first time I was surprised because I didn't feel this overwhelming, immediate, bond with my son. I think i expected to feel this instant "mom" thing - full of love and patience and wisdom - but instead i was the same 'ol me, but with a baby in my arms. a baby that was now my sole responsibility to care for, to raise, to keep alive day to day - i think my greater emotion was one of feeling lost and overwhelmed. but as each minute went by i began to feel more calm and more in awe at this tiny creature i called mine. I found that when others came to visit at the hospital and would hold him, it wouldn't take long for me to feel this need to have him back so i could hold him and just look at him. those two first days went by so quickly and before i knew it the nurse was telling me we could go. I looked at her as though she was speaking a foreign language. did she not realize i had no idea what i was doing? had i somehow fooled them all? surely she must have seen the look of absolute panic at the thought of leaving and having to face motherhood on my own. but no, they simply patted my hand and sent us on our way. i cried the whole way out.

Over the following weeks i found that even though i was terrified and worried that i was doing everything wrong it was ok, because no matter what - this little boy, so perfect in anyway, loved me and trusted me to simply love him back. besides aaron, he was the most important person in my life and i was crazy about him in every way. It's been 6 years now and each time noah has a check-up and the doctor tells me he's healthy and strong - i feel a great sense of accomplishment. It's proof that miracles do happen, even for people like me.

And yes, mom, five years later i finally could remember the pain of labor no more... and then we had Reagan - but that's a different post for a different day.