I am coming to the end of my first trimester in my first pregnancy and have recently announced to everyone – by everyone I mean family, friends and the world via Facebook.


I’m not the most patient person so waiting this long has been pretty crazy making – especially as I wrote numerous blog posts in my head about the experience and was dying to share. (Now like the intelligent writer I claim to be, did I make drafts of any of these posts so that I could actually use them now when I’m able to post them…of course not. That would have been just too logical for my pregnancy brain to deal with at this point in time!)

The main thing I kept going over and over in my head was holy god I’m dying. I’ve spent pretty much the entire first trimester so nauseous and exhausted I could barely see straight. I’ve had a few days  where I railed over the misnomer of morning sickness – usually when I was praying to the porcelain god in the evening or afternoon. I spend so much time wondering when I can sleep, then when I get to bed I can’t fall asleep, despite being so exhausted my eye balls hurt. I don’t feel pregnant. I just feel sick.

As a reader I, of course, have multiple apps to link me to articles and books that I’m reading that wax the miracle of pregnancy and birth. How it’s different for everyone but so beautiful and wonderful.

To make sure this is taken in the way it’s intended please note – I LOVE being pregnant. I’ve waited for a long time for this and can’t wait to hold the tiny human my husband and I have created in my arms.

Right now though? Pregnancy is the worst thing since getting the flu over Thanksgiving a few years ago. Things I used to love to eat I now throw up. And if I don’t throw them up they taste weird. I can smell everything from miles away – good and bad but mostly bad. I’m constantly exhausted and my temperature has risen just enough to make falling asleep at night a hassle – despite the air conditioning on full blast with fans to help bring the cool air to me. I can’t focus and feel out of sorts anytime I’m awake. Sleeping is interrupted by the constant need to pee and weird dreams. There’s no pregnancy glow…unless you count the gleam of sweat covering my entire body after a bout of praying to the porcelain god.

Pregnancy sickness.

Then I read, or am told by other women who have gone through it all before, that it only gets worse. You swell, you ache, the exhaustion gets worse. The need to pee gets worse. Not to mention at the end of all this I’m going to experience the lovely pain of contractions.

So yes, I did this to myself. I want a baby I’m willing to put my mind, body and soul through this agony and torture. I’m willing to risk all the complications and suffer through all the nausea and exhaustion for the sheer joy of having a tiny human. A tiny human that will poop everywhere, keep me up at night and change my body to something completely unrecognizable.

In conclusion…it’s great to be pregnant. It will be great to call myself mother. It will be amazing to look into the eyes of the tiny human and know that my husband and I are forever mixed together in this beautiful creature. But in all honesty – it sure comes with a hefty price tag that people rarely mention. The tradition of keeping quiet about your pregnancy during the first trimester, because of the risk of miscarriage, only adds to the anxiety. So here you are feeling terrible and you’re not allowed to talk about it? Don’t mention it! Not until the 2nd trimester when things are mostly better and pretty!

I refuse to do that. Pregnancy isn’t always good and it’s rarely what I would call pretty. Telling women they don’t have the right to complain, to commiserate, to share this experience with the world isn’t right. So I shall share….right now I don’t like being pregnant. I eagerly await a nausea free moment when I can think happily about the little one growing inside me.

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