RAWsome Pregnancy. 5 months Along.

The below story is from 2 months ago. I was 21 weeks pregnant (pictured above). 

I am on my knees again, pressed firmly into the cold lament floor of the bathroom as my neck goes limp bringing my chin into my chest, my head too heavy to keep up. I am on my knees again but I am not praying… this has become my new normal, my daily 4:30am routine. I’m pregnant…and I am sick. My body is somehow hot and cold simultaneously, starting to shake from the freezing morning temperature of the room, but the back of my neck feels like its on fire. This feels like the worst stomach flu you could have, your body heaving in every direction searching for an inch of release and calm that doesn’t come. The acid in my throat is vile and strong. Jon hears me and rushes into the room to make sure I am ok… this has become his daily routine. He grabs me a cup of cool water and gently puts his hand on my back. “Thank you” is all he can muster through the sleepiness of his voice as he wipes the sleep from his eyes. He is always so calm, and does everything he can to help, something that I struggle to accept in my time of need. “I’m fine” I try to reassure him. “Ill be out soon”. I hate having people watch me be sick. I dislike the exposed feeling, like an animal trapped in a snag. This is where my independence really bites me in the ass, because it is so comforting having him near, his positivity filling the room like sunshine, but with every motion towards the toilet I wave him away telling him that Ill be ok. He sets the cup of water on the counter, kisses me on the head, and makes his way back to bed.

It has been over 5 months of this routine. Wake up spinning, dash to the bathroom, spend an hour or so hugging the toilet as if it were a long lost friend I am picking up from the airport, swish some mouthwash, hobble back to bed. I don’t think I can do this anymore. I want to “tap out”. I want to adopt (which was our original plan). IM SO TIRED. I just want this to be over. The guilt begins to rise bringing with it the hot feeling of tears forming as I realize the dark direction my thoughts are going. Thousands of women struggle to have this very feeling and here I am miserable and cursing it. Does this mean I’m a bad mom already? Do I not love her? Ugh… I just want this part to be over. They said it would get better. When will it feel better? My friend who has gone through 4 miscarriages and 3 rounds of IVF flashes through my mind and I feel like the worst person in the world. She would love to have made it to this feeling of putridness, she would love to have 5 months of being sick for a good cause, and for some reason I cannot seem to handle 2 more seconds of it. FUCK. The vomit rises again and this time I am crying as it pours out of me. I slump over, my back resting against the cool porcelain of the tub and I just sob.

This is motherhood, before it even begins; the first act of relinquishing control to provide life into another. It always starts with the body. This is my reality. My mother warned me that this was her reality too… its actually better than what she went through, but I think mine is only slightly more bearable because of all the prep my body had with yoga, vegetarianism, and meditation. I had also gotten my diagnosis of having an autoimmune disease before becoming pregnant and started taking care of myself and 28 years ago she didn’t. She was on bed rest for nearly 7 months with me, losing weight because all she could keep down were saltines and tea. I think I almost killed her spirit at one point and by the time she gave birth to me she had actually lost weight. So I guess what I’m going through is an improvement in my genetic lineage.

The cool temperature of the tub is calming, and my body is starting to relax. I don’t know how my mother did this… How anyone does this. But then I remember a video my dad had taken on the day I was born. My parents were amazing at documenting my childhood and I have gotten to go back and watch these snapshots of my early life, connecting to who they were and where I came from in a unique way. I remember watching the video of this day, seeing him in his pink and white rugby shirt (very 80s of him), his hair filling his head and all poofy from lack of sleep, but his eyes are sparkling with delight as he held me in his arms. The camera cuts and its now pointed at my mom; 24 years old looking so beautiful, young, innocent, and hopeful. She smiles with me tucked away, snuggled in the comfort of her forearms. She stares straight at the camera and says in the gentlest voice “I love her so much. She’s all mine”. The biggest smile in the world flashes across her face, as she looks back at the little bundle of me on her lap. I can do this.

No one said this would be easy, but so many refuse to talk about what this part of having a baby is like. Most of my friends who have had kids talked about how much of a “goddess” they felt like when they were pregnant. How they loved being pregnant, and cant wait to do it again. They would post on facebook and instagram glamorous pictures of their bellies in yoga poses, looking just as adorable as ever, eating salads and fruits, filled with what seems to be unbounded energy and delight. And here I am sitting on the bathroom floor half naked with my ass sticking to the floor and my boob sliding out of my no longer fitting shirt. Ive been asked by nearly everyone at work if I’m getting sleep because I just look so “tired”, one woman even asked if I wanted a botox consultation! And the worst of it…? All I’ve been able to keep down for 3 months are burgers, fries and tacos … not homemade or the vegetarian tacos I ate before I was pregnant… but the WORST TACOS YOU CAN IMAGINE. The ones I would caution my health clients about. The ones that I know are filled with sodium, chemicals, and crap that I would never voluntarily eat. But now these fast food shells filled with what I know is not really meat or quality ingredients are my daily eatery. Even though I vomit 3-7x a day I am gaining weight from the crap food I am eating. The tacos cause gas, and not the quiet, rose petal variety us women are accustomed to. These are deadly even to me and that’s where they are coming from. I am one step away from turning into Jabba the Hut. I do not feel like a goddess.

I take a long, deep breath, and pull myself off of the floor and over to the sink. I place my hands under the silver faucet and turn on the cold water to wash my face of the saltwater and spit that had accumulated. My eyes are sore and my throat is on fire, and now my gums have started bleeding. Great. What next? I look at myself in the mirror and just stare. The light is now starting to come into the small confines of what was the dark bathroom and I can see myself more clearly. I take another deep breath and bring back the image of my mom from the video. This will pass. Its ok. Its ok to be mad. Its ok to be sad. No one likes feeling sick. You’ve been doing a lot with work, the new studio needs, and prepping for the move, and haven’t slowed down for a moment. Its ok. It will be worth it. I stand up straight and grab the cup of water Jon had left me before going back to bed. I raise the glass up to my lips and take a huge gulp of the cold fluid. It calms my throat as it passes down, and I can feel it fill my now empty stomach. I love water.

I gently set down the cup and dry my face when something unexpected happens…. WHAT THE FUCK WAS THAT?! My belly jumped! It wasn’t gas bubbles, it wasn’t a breath, or contraction, or anything I have ever felt before. This was a kick! I take another sip of the cold water. KICK KICK SWISH! I start giggling as I put my hand on my stomach to see if what I think I’m feeling is really happening. This is so weird. My hand settles by my belly button and she kicks again. Just as quickly as it began the movement inside stops. It was brief, but it was exactly like I needed. I was not alone. My body is definitely not mine right now, which is why the salads and fruits I miss so much aren’t on the menu any more. I had forgotten this. I’m sharing this vessel of a body with the little alien child growing bigger every day. Ok, River… You’ve got to give me those kicks more, Ok? I need them to snap me out of this. I turn to the door to go back to bed. KICK. She agreed to the terms. I know you are worth this. Every. Single. Bit.