A couple of years ago, right around the time Julesy was born, my boss was trying desperately to get pregnant, without much luck. When she first became my boss, I was nearing my 8th month of pregnancy, and wanted to cry every minute at my desk. I was still working too much, and was as miserable as any sleep deprived, pregnant, working mother of a toddler can possibly be. Throughout the end of my pregnancy and my first few months back in the office, my new boss would proclaim, “When I get pregnant, I’m NEVER going to complain like you people! I will enjoy every minute of it!” I told her that I’d be heartily laughing as she moaned about morning sickness and swollen ankles when she finally did get herself a bun in the oven.
And about 8 months after my son was born, my boss finally did get pregnant. It took $20,000 of IVF treatment but sure enough, she got her two pink lines. And what was the VERY first thing she did when the 7th week started? Oh, you guessed it! She COMPLAINED! She complained about having to pee all the time. She complained about feeling sick. She complained about cravings. She complained about her partner not being around enough and not taking the pregnancy seriously. She complained about her condo being too small for a baby, and the McMansions she was looking to buy being too expensive. In fact, I’m not sure if a day went by that she didn’t complain about some aspect of her $20,000, hard earned baby.
Did I judge her? Absolutely NOT! Oh yeah, I chuckled at the irony, but as far as I’m concerned, no matter how badly someone wants a child, there is no preparing yourself (even the second, third, or fifth time) for how hard growing and raising a human being actually is, both physically and emotionally. And each time we do it, we’re at an even greater disadvantage than the previous time because we now have other children that also need mothering while we’re deep in the throes of morning sickness misery and sleep deprivation.
When we were trying to get pregnant, I remembered morning sickness and how unpleasant it was. But, I had this delusion that I’d be able to manage it better this time because, after all, I was a veteran, right? I know all the tricks of the trade; all of the secret remedies for curing nausea. So then why have I suffered so badly over the last few weeks? Well, maybe because not all those tricks have worked for me, and I’m too tired/lazy to run around town seeking out special herbs and spices to mix up some remedy that also may not work.
One particular tea seemed to help, but I ran out, and I can barely lift my head up to feed my children these days, let alone drag those mini nutbags into Whole Foods while they rip items off the shelf and cause me a mental breakdown in the herbal section. “Clean Up in Aisle 3” takes on a whole new meaning with my children in your store.
And so I’m just about 8 weeks pregnant, and essentially miserable. I’ve never been a big fan of this whole pregnancy thing to begin with – I just like the prize at the end. This week sucks especially hard because we’re moving our whole life a half hour away, and I have school, AND I have a mom due any minute, AND I have to run my business. Meanwhile all I can stand doing is laying in bed on my side in total silence.
I know there are people who are angry that I’d complain about having healthy children and a seemingly healthy pregnancy, but complaining is every mother’s right, and when it’s your turn, I’ll listen to you with no judgment whatsoever. I’ve been there sister. I’ll hold your hand, and your hair, while you just let it all out. It doesn’t make you a bad mom, or ungrateful… it just makes you human.
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Oh please, I’m begging you PLEASE do NOT leave me six hundred (or even one) suggestion for a morning sickness remedy. I’ve got lists coming out of my ass, and no time to try them all. You can commiserate, but please don’t try to fix me – I don’t have the energy anymore. I’m simply in misery-loves-company mode now. Commiserate, or leave me a funny story – please.
