Before embarking on the journey towards motherhood, I decided to put my body in the best position possible.
If I wasn’t swimming, I was doing aerobic strengthening classes, power-flow yoga, taking tennis lessons, and eating a diet of nourishing things.
Both myself and my partner worked hard at exercising, eating well, and making conscious choices around our bodies.
We still enjoyed the sinfully delicious, which included a ten-day holiday in Maui that was full of debauchery… But overall we were dedicated to our health.
My plan was to continue business as usual when I got pregnant. I wanted to be strong and ready for labor, and carrying my little bean. However it wasn’t even a week after that little stick said “YOU ARE GOING TO BE A MOM”, that my plans flushed down the toilet like my affirming hCG urine… TMI?
I am not going to say I am the MOST ambitious girl on the block, I value self-care too much.
What I will say is: running a business, managing social media, running to studios, building my teaching reputation, hosting workshops, building playlists, designing classes, seeing clients, booking shoots, and being my own marketing team, administrative assistant, CFO, CEO, and janitor… is a full-time job.
ON top of that ensuring I am fitting my own exercise in, making food, and taking a break to smell the roses with my partner, leaves just enough time for sleep. To be honest, I like it this way… I enjoy the hustle of many things, and sitting around get’s old fast.
My first trimester was a battle. And although I wasn’t hooked up to an I.V., barfing my brains out; I was still struggling in my own way. Even though I have never had MONO, I can only speculate I was having a similar experience. The out-of-reach remote for the television, made me feel like I would just have to accept trying to sleep while Netflix continued to play. Between the nausea, bloating, flatulence, and constipation, I couldn’t tell if I was coming or going.
Have you ever felt so bloated that you figure if someone bumps into you, you will explode like a water balloon hitting the cement?
I thought I was going to die when a person (that will remain anonymous), told me I am showing nine-weeks in.
I went from prancing around the house naked and enjoying my tight yoga clothes–to wearing baggy sweaters in shame.
As much as I know that there is a divine order to pregnancy… and I trust my body was doing what it needed to do… I felt more uncomfortable than I ever have. I felt shameful for the way my body looked. I felt embarrassed that I wasn’t getting anything done. I couldn’t help, but define myself as lazy and unattractive.
If I can stand on a mountain top and scream to pregnant mother’s everywhere one thing, it would be: YOU ARE NORMAL. Feeling like a floating blimp is normal. Telling your partner you can’t make dinner, after you called in sick for work (again), is normal.
If you are constipated, crying, or feeling like you just discovered your partner (or anyone) is your mortal enemy–you are normal.
This Too Shall Pass!
As a wise old mama in her second-tri, I can say it does get better. I still don’t feel 100% back to my energetic selfie, but I feel human. I can do a yoga class. I can reach for the remote… and I can write these words. My digestive system has calmed down. I am happy to report I have zero mortal enemies. I have survived the ride, and got off the emotional-self-loathing rollercoaster.
So stay strong mama. Breathe in. Breathe out. This too shall pass.