I was innocently sitting in my chair, rubbing my belly, and moaning -- just soaking in the glory of my growing-girth. Noticing my condition, my lovely 10 year old daughter, Sammi, said to me . . .
"Mom, I like the old, running, happy-mom better than the big, grumpy, pregnant mom."
Ouch. That hurt.
As the tears welled-up in my eyes from the sting of her sharp words, all I could say was, "I know Sammi . . . me too."
(Image from being pregnant with Sammi. It was 10 years ago, but the idea (being HUGE) is the same.)
Sammi has a way of cutting me to my core -- she is good at it, a little too good. What hurt the most was she is right. I am not the happy mom that I should be. I know it. I know it well.
Every week-day morning, I load the kids up in the car to take them to school. Just getting into the car I make a sort of braying-horse noise, as I squish myself behind the steering wheel. I glance at myself in the rear-view mirror and I see the great crevasse of concern, permanently etched in the middle of my eyebrows -- it is getting deeper. The elastic band on the waist of my pants start cutting off my flow of circulation. I almost immediately feel the need to pee as my bladder is pressed in unnatural ways when I sit. I feel . . . Ugh. I look Ugh-ly.
I then drive down the street and stare longingly at the bike trails. I see moms with their strollers, they are jogging with the wind in their hair . . . happy, free, active. I feel little twinges of jealousy (OK, big jolts of jealousy!), as I wish I could be out there . . . running, sweating, breathing deeply, feeling the burn. Being alive.
Instead, I am HUGE. Massive. Extraordinarily uncomfortable. I do not even feel like me. I feel like . . . a stranger. My mind is foggy. My body is swollen. I can barely walk and running would be a joke. It is even hard to smile, as the weight of my chipmunk-cheeks pull my face down. My emotions range from numb, to a little less numb. That's all I got. That is where I am at. I am tired. I am pretty much sleep-walking through my day. Just going through the motions, emotionless.
But there is a reason:
The 9th Month
That is where I am.
I think you almost have to get to the point of numb, to be willing to rip your body in two.
Right now I would HAPPILY go through labor just to feel something.
We are close now . . . getting close. I can do this . . . just a little longer.
I just gotta push this baby out so I can be the "running, happy-mom" again . . .
I just have to keep it together a little longer . . . for the sake of my children!
Soon, very soon . . . I will tie-up my running shoes and feel the wind in my hair again.
I will be happy again. :-)
Just you wait, Sammi! Mommy will be back!
i like you just the same....and this post made me laugh even though you may not have intended it too. the image you painted of pregnant ladies trying to squeeze in behind a steering wheel was so right on i couldn't help but laugh. :)
ReplyDeleteI understand your pain. I'm starting to feel that way to and I still have 2 1/2 months left. I also have to smile when you talk about squeezing behind the wheel. That happened to me yesterday when I sat down at the table, I didn't have the chair pulled out far enough. Oh well at least it's all worth it in the end and you'll have the whole summer to be out and enjoy. Love you and good luck with everything. Beth
ReplyDeleteAmen Sister!
ReplyDeleteYou will run again and not be weary! Thanks for your honest post. I laughed and almost cried. You are a trooper Mari. You will cross the finish line of this grand event....Henry being born!
Greater strength reveals itself as we endure our greatest adversities. You will arise stronger after Henry is born. You will be amazed at the life that is given back to you. Hold on to hope. Hold on to that happy, free, endorphin high from running. remember how good it feels after working so hard.
At the age of 43 (almost 44, but I don't think about that too much), I am physically stronger than I have ever been (thanks to running and believing in miracles. ) Since I had to go without running for 4 years due to my viral fatigue, I count each step I take now as a gift, a tender mercy. I remember that 'blah' feeling. But, soon you will be able to get UP and really move forward. For now, perhaps it's best if you just keep moaning and try some prenatal yoga w/ Rodney Yee in his tight spandex.....that ought to make you feel better. ; )
Love, your sister and running buddy,
Kary
I feel the same way. I could have wrote your post. :O) Its so hard, I think about having more kids and I think about what a "not fun" mom I am when I am pregnant, how I am just waiting and counting down the time till Im normal again. Its all so worth it, having the beautiful little baby to love and cuddle and be a mom too, it all works out in the end, its just the getting there thats not fun. Kind of like our time on this earth, lots of hard times and trials and then the fun times, and back to the trials. :O) I missed fun, energy filled me when I was pregnant. your almost there!!! lol easy for me to say now that Im on the other side.
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