Fun Reminiscences On Pregnancy

Do you still remember being pregnant? Was it fun or miserable? (Misery makes the best stories!) If you remember, want to remember or are preggo right now, you might enjoy these.

Top 10 Most Hilariously Annoying Things About Being Pregnant.

10. Pregnancy Brain

When you can't process simple instructions, can't remember what you were going to do next, or you forget what you were saying right in the middle of your sentence... you might have pregnancy brain. You can't understand the answer to your own question. "The Rubiks Cube works HOW again?"  "Bleg. I can't process anything you're saying. Don't make me call tech support. Don't make me call tech support!"

9. Extra Paranoia

Cheers. Just for you. Movies you used to like now cause anxiety. People you used to like cause anxiety. Don't even think about watching the news or discussing politics. It's too much. Try not to argue with anyone. Those hormones make everything seem worse than it is and you'll end up saying things you'll regret.

8. Weird Dreams

When your boss shows up on a panel (in Cuba) of your least favorite relatives to discuss your messy house and bad hair, that qualifies as a nightmare. If your offspring is suddenly a tomato or kitten, that's definitely weird. When you dream of sleeping, you know you're tired. If your bad dream count goes from 0-1 per night up to 5-10, chalk that up to Extra Paranoia. Ooh! And if candy grows on trees, you're very lucky and should stay asleep a little longer.

7. Fatigue Beyond Any Reasonable Expectation

You spend most of your time lying down, or wishing you were. It wouldn't be so bad if you could sleep at night. Waking up hungry, walking to the bathroom, waking up thirsty, walking to the bathroom, waking up too hot, walking to the bathroom, and surviving one more weird dream all cut into precious sleep time. Lucky you could fall asleep at all, what with all that beautiful extra paranoia running through your pregnancy brain, and all those inexplicable aches and pains.

6. Morning And Any-Time-I'm-Awake Sickness

Some women don't ever get sick, have three-hour labors, and are super good looking. We will not, WILL NOT beat them up. They, after all, are missing out on all the fun. They don't know the joys of suddenly running from a room with one hand clapped over their mouth. The unspeakable power of one word to ruin your moment. The delight of needing food, of hating food, of finally thinking of a food that sounds remotely palatable, of changing your mind about your favorite food for the foreseeable future. Poor saps.

5. Strange Cravings

What is the weirdest thing you've craved? Pickles? Sushi? Seaweed? The special burrito that only your mom can make correctly and is strangely unavailable at three in the morning? With my oldest son, it was peaches and Chinese food. With my youngest, it was steak and fruit juice. Not together. Whatever it is, eat it fast before you don't want it anymore. See number 6.

4. Offensive Odors

Requiring your husband to shower and brush his teeth before kissing you is a bit extreme. Except, well... does he want a kiss or not?

Not everyone has this gift. (Lucky!) What a boon to walk into a room and ask, "Is someone painting?" only to find out that nobody knows what you're talking about. Nobody is painting, nobody ate garlic and there has been no dog food anywhere around in the last three days. Your superpower is too good. Too bad that doesn't help your appetite.Taking a walk, that turns into a run, might look like Godzilla has arrived, but no. Your neighbors are just having fried chicken for dinner. Abominable stuff.


3. Inexplicable Aches And Pains

My foot. My back. My head. My everything hurts.

Why????

I don't know. But, take a bath, get a massage and do some stretches. Drink plenty of water and try to lay off the junk food. Get some exercise. And remember hot packs and cold packs and body pillows and acetaminophen. Bless the inventors of these helpful contrivances.

2. The Shrinking Clothes

Sadly, these are not the magic clothes that make you shrink. They seem to shrink themselves from one day to the next. We knew there was a reason our favorite jeans feel so tight.

What is there left to wear when you're right in between regular and maternity? Compromise. Maternity pants and regular shirts. Or dresses every day. (But not those accursed pantyhose.) Or, my personal favorite, stay in your pajamas all day long. When that gets depressing, just buy a size up. These might fit you again after the baby comes and be good transitional clothes.

My Favorite Clothing Story

While I was 5  months along with my younger son, I was asked to be a bridesmaid. (Ha ha! Go special-order a dress that won't fit you by the time it's ready to wear.) It worked out, but only because I was lucky enough to find a dress off the rack, a few days before the occasion. It's not even maternity but it accommodated a seven-month belly, due to its gathered empire waist that fits every shape.  I still wear it.

1. Unsolicited Advice from Strangers

What is the deal with all kinds of people walking up to you, assuming you're pregnant (what if you're just fat?) and asking a lot of questions? "When are you due? Boy or girl? Is it your first? No?" Noticeable disappointment. Your pregnancy is less the miracle somehow. But it's still everybody's business. "Let me give you some advice that you don't want and find a little disturbing, coupled with my own personal stories to bore and terrify you."

To be fair, it's not all bad. Sometimes people will just be nice and give you their seat, or bring you a cup of water, or let you cut in line to the bathroom. (One man stopped a bus for me because he thought I was on my way to the hospital! Ha ha!) They might give you extra French fries when you're hungry or reassure you that everything will most likely be fine. These are all useful and welcome.

And the advice and personal stories weren't really that bad. The first hundred times. But wow! Can we stop now? Can we stop after the next hundred? Is there an end in sight? One mistake I made was... the train. The whole crowd of passengers all simultaneously advising, arguing about which old wives tale is right. And the worst part? You can't walk away. (Probably this is worst-case scenario and easily avoided. To test this theory, go ride the public transportation with an obvious bump and see what happens. Report back here and best of luck to you.)


My Favorite Happy Memory

I loved feeling my boys move for the first time, and every time. Just knowing that they were okay and would soon make their debut into MY arms was the thrill of a lifetime. (I'll have to remember this when they become teenagers.) The love makes it all worth it, And yes, I would do it all again.

Okay, so there are a few things I would change. For instance, riding the train. Otherwise, not much. I love my boys. I wanted them, they're here, and I still like them. I will chalk this up to The Inexplicable Love of Children Who Wake You Up at Night and Whine During Daylight Hours. But, that's another blog.

Why Miscarriage Sucks

Just about a year ago, I had my third miscarriage in a row.* I know that many women have had more than I have. I won't say that my situation or my sorrow are worse than anyone else's. I won't say they're better either. Frankly, it sucks any way you look at it. Ladies and gentleman, can we agree? Miscarriage sucks! And I could use a lot of other words in regards to it but I won't. If you've had one or more miscarriages, you will understand all that I say and more. If you've never had one, please allow me to tell you. You'll be able to show empathy for others. You might learn what not to do. Here we go.

How You Feel

As soon as you find out you're miscarrying, you are no longer pregnant. You'll still feel sick, you still get emotional for no reason, you're still exhausted and you're still fat. (Except, now you'll lose blood and get sicker and more tired and actually have a reason to be emotional.) It's like being pregnant but you're not. You will get all kinds of contractions, similar to labor, and have absolutely nothing to show for it. (You'll actually give birth to a baby, only it'll be dead.) People will ask you how your pregnancy is going and you'll have to decide if it's more painful to tell them you miscarried or to endure their congratulations and personal stories. See my post on coping strategies.

If you find out at a routine doctor visit, he/she may recommend that you wait for a natural miscarriage to occur. You're not pregnant but you haven't miscarried. You're somewhere in between and you get to explain it to... way too many people. Again and again while you wait to miscarry. Or you can get a D&C under general anesthesia. You skip the in-between bit and the doctor uses suction to remove "products of conception".  Miscarriage sucks, literally. (You can also stay awake for the procedure, but if there's a way to make the whole process suck worse, this is it.)


You might feel like you've wasted other people's time. All the friends who brought you juice or a meal because you were feeling sick didn't need to bother after all. You might feel the unfairness of all the fun things you skipped while you felt ill or were busy being careful--and for what? You might as well have taken that cruise or hiking trip to Ireland because then you'd have something happy to look back on. 

You might feel the unfairness of all the sweet babies who were born, only, not to you.

Telling People You Miscarried

While you're UN-announcing the birth of your darling, sweet baby who you've been dreaming about and planning for with the happiest and tenderest thoughts, people might say stupid things to you. Stupid like, "You'll have another baby." (If that reduced pain, people who lost their beloved spouses would feel no regret because they could always marry again.) Stupid like, "You still have your other children." (Yes, I know. So, if one of your friends dies, you're not gonna feel sad because you still have other friends, right?) Stupid like, "You should try not to get so emotionally involved." (What? With my baby? Hellooo! That's not a thing!) Stupid like, "So-and-so's miscarriage was worse." (Are you saying that she loved her baby more that I love mine? Do you know that's a ridiculous position to take?) Or stupid like, "So you had a miscarriage. You don't need to get jealous of people with babies." (Clearly, you have never had a miscarriage.) Or, stupidest of all, "You should stop trying." (That's so worthless that I can't even address it right now.)

With all that discouragement, you might prefer to push people away rather than asking for support. You might even develop a seething rage. It's a good thing some people listen better than they talk. Not everyone will say something dumb. And some people really do understand. You'll know because they help instead of hurt.

Grief And Healing

The first three days are the hardest, and filled with inner conflict. You struggle to comprehend the reality of your situation, without wanting to. You fight through numbness, or embrace it because it beats the pain. You don't want anyone around. You do want some company. You don't want pity. You need some sympathy. You don't want to talk about it. You wish someone would listen.  You feel angry at people for not taking away the pain. You know that they can't. You feel guilty for wanting the pain gone. You feel like you're drowning in sorrow. You don't want to ask for help. What would help anyway? You wish people would understand what you want. You don't know what you want. Yes, you do. You want your baby back. It's a nightmare. You sleep with the light on.


After two weeks, it has noticeably gotten easier. It is by no means easy. You appreciate the help your friends and family give you. Flowers cheer you a little, and you cling to any bit of cheer you can get because you are tired of being sad. You pack your day full of activities, without knowing if you enjoy them. Distracting yourself helps you get through but doesn't help you heal. Eventually, you have to face the pain as you look down at the place where your baby used to be and say, "I really wanted you." Crying actually helps. A lot. Therapy is useful for "getting it out."

A month or so later, everyone seems to have forgotten about it and gone back to their lives. You feel very alone because you're still in pain but don't want to ruin somebody's day by talking about it. People have stopped asking how you are and how they can help. You take the hint and if anyone does happen to casually ask how you are, you say that you're fine. You are a liar. You don't feel fine at all. You just think nobody cares. Not surprisingly, you feel depressed. The hormones don't help.

This is when you really need a support group. This is when you not only feel strong enough to hear others' stories, but need to share your own.

What To Do About It

1. Give yourself time.

 Your feelings are normal. Express your feelings, don't hold them in.You can write it down in a "therapy journal", as my sister the counselor told me. It helps. (Seriously. It's just a private notebook where you write down whatever you feel, without judging yourself for feeling it. Once you're done, you get do decide if your thoughts are really true. If they are, you keep them. If they're not, you replace them with true thoughts. You can do this as often as you like.) You can join an online forum or support group.  You can comment on this blog. I have personally found therapy to be very helpful.

2. Do it.

 Ruin somebody's day. Actually, that's a myth. Your loss can't ruin anybody's day because no one will feel it the same way you do. But they still care.

This line shows how it works.

                                 feeling my pain------------------------------------- not caring

All your friends (and even some strangers,) who know about your experience are going to care. Nobody is going to be anywhere close to not caring. They only show it differently.
     
                                feeling my pain-----------^------------------------- not caring

All your friends are already feeling some of your pain because they love you and they have empathy. Talking to them about it will not cause them to feel more pain. It will allow them to release it by helping you heal. When you feel better, they feel relieved. So go to your nicest friends, the ones best able to help you heal, and talk to them. They might be afraid of making it worse. So tell them what you really need. A listener. A cook. A hug. Somebody to make you laugh really hard. Maybe advice. And if someone gives you advice that's not helpful, TELL them why it's not helpful.

3.Create A Memorial

 I know the feeling of holding onto the pain of loss, because the pain is all you have left of your baby. I learned that it doesn't have to be that way. Writing letters to each one of my babies helped me feel that they were not lost. Or maybe, that I was not lost. Creating a memorial helps you let go. Choosing to remember the good on purpose helps you release the bad. You might write down your feelings about your baby and put it into a special box with ultrasound photos, baby shoes or whatever you wish. You can make a book, light a candle, or write letters to your little one. Any way you choose to celebrate your baby will help you feel less disconnected. There is no time limit. You can start anytime and continue as long or as many times as you wish.

15 Ways To Help A Grieving Parent

1. Spend time with them. They'll talk if they want to.
2. Don't lecture, analyze or give advice unless they ask. 
3. Give gifts
              A. To help with a memorial: A candle, personalized home decor item, a book,or card
              B. Or to just cheer them up: Flowers, a massage, a getaway for two they can use when they want, organic chocolate, fresh fruit, night on the town.
4. Give hugs often.
5. Don't talk about baby shopping, new babies, pregnancy or death unless they bring it up.
6. Don't assume that because they already have children that their pain is somehow less. It's not.
7. Take walks with them. Exercise helps release stress.
8. DO NOT get angry at them for the way they grieve. Everyone grieves differently.
9. PLEASE offer to clean their house and then follow through.
10. Take them out to their favorite restaurant or a botanical garden. Get them out of the house.
11. Offer to babysit. If they say no, offer again in a couple weeks.
12. Be a good listener.
13. Be available.
14. Don't assume they will "get over it" quickly. Grief is a process and can take decades.
15. Be supportive.

We Can Do This

I have good days and bad days. It's not over yet but I know my limits. I won't go to baby showers. I won't watch Up, Marley And Me or any other movie that portrays  miscarriage. I will give baby gifts, hugs and lots of sympathy to anyone who needs it. We can all get through this, especially if we stick together. Believe it. Know it. This isn't over yet. Great times are still coming. And right now great times sound a lot like a Jacuzzi tub and a really good hamburger. Ladies and gentlemen, can we agree? Jacuzzi tubs are awesome! And hamburgers. I am so getting one now.


Edit: A brand-new book about finding hope is coming out February 10, 2015. It is called Little Boy Blue: Finding Hope After Miscarriage. You can read my story and 14 others about grief, healing and finding the light. Proceeds go to charity. Here is the link. http://www.amazon.com/dp/B00S3IZGM8

*Edit:  May 2016, I've now had 6 miscarriages.