I hate being pregnant.
I hate having to pee every half an hour.
I hate that I grew out of my normal clothes (With Mikey I never did)
I hate that I wake up nauseous.
I hate that some days I spend more time leaning over a toilet than being with my boys.
I hate being kicked at all hours of the day.
I hate that I wake up every 45 minutes because my whole side fell asleep.
I hate the mood swings.
I hate people asking me how much weight I have gained- fyi people, unless I bring it up, steer clear of that subject.
I hate that I didn't get to have a baby shower this pregnancy- not for the gifts or stuff but because I miss adult interaction- being sick with a 15 month old leads to a lot of lonely days.
I hate that I can't pick my son.
I just hate being pregnant.
But don't get me wrong- I appreciate it and I do not take it for granted.
I am so grateful that I can carry children full term.
I am so grateful that I am able to deliver naturally.
I am so grateful that even though I get sick, my babies thrive.
I am so grateful that I get to experience this miracle and I do recognize it as one.
I am so grateful that my husband takes such good care of me while I am pregnant- and while I am not- although to be fair, we haven't had a lot of time together without me being prego.
I am so grateful that there are so many people that care enough about me to check up on me.
I am so grateful that I can feel my son kick because it means that he is growing and developing.
I am so grateful that I can't sit for longer than about 45 minutes because it means that I am getting close to delivery.
I am so grateful for indoor plumbing- seriously.
And most of all, I am so grateful that I get to do something as great as raise children. Some days when me and Mikey are having a particularly bad day and he is running around like a crazy person and I just wish I could lock myself in my room and ignore him, I get overcome with this feeling of gratitude for him (such a tender mercy) I look at him and I think to myself, Even if I don't accomplish another thing for the rest of my life, I think I will be satisfied because of him. Every time he smiles at me, or hugs me, or says mama, I feel one of those terrible pregnant days slip away and it makes it all a little more worth it.
I hate being pregnant. But I love being a mom. I guess life is full of these necessary evils but I can't imagine anything paying back like this one.