I know, I know, sounds sacrilegious, right?
It took me a long time to get pregnant with my first child, and as I've mentioned before, my first pregnancy miscarried. So by the time I was pregnant the full term it really had become a miracle... the more I learned about what it took to make a baby the more miraculous it became.
But now comes the part not suited for those who gross out easily, or those who have the notion that certain things should not be talked about, especially by the gender known as "lady".
Of all the things I'd heard about pregnancy, I clearly hadn't listened closely enough, concentrating only on the actual development of the fetus. So the following came as such a surprise to me when I was barely 8 weeks pregnant: As I stood on the doorway above the kitchen steps I felt a tickle in my throat. I coughed. Squirt. "What the???" I had peed my pants, ever so slightly, but nevertheless shocking...
I didn't know this sort of thing could start so early in the pregnancy. I figured the weight of the baby in the later months would push on the bladder, but not so.
Morning sickness began early as well. Around 7 weeks, and it remained with me the whole pregnancy. "Chicken" was a word that the mere mention of could send me into uncontrollable dry-heaving, so chicken was completely forbidden in our household, both the word and the bird.
Pregnancy mask: I got that as well. I had a "shadow" moustache, some other stuff between my eyebrows (very attractive) so I felt I was channeling Frida Kahlo. Furthermore, I had a funny dark line that went all the way down my stomach, even my belly-button was dark. What's worse? My nipples grew to the size of small plates and got so dark it was impossible to believe, so much so that my own mother was startled by seeing me get out of the shower. Actually she looked frightened more than startled. My own mother! Nice.
Constipation was another problem. I even had what I call "Constipated Diarrhea" which, hard to believe, wouldn't come out at all only to just comeoutallatonce at an inopportune time. I got really good at convincing store clerks to let me borrow the restroom the either "didn't have" or was "out of order."
But the culmination of all grossness was what my husband had to endure one night. I was already quite pregnant, my breasts had a life of their own along with their own zip code, but not in a sexy way by any means. They were grotesque.
This particular night I was sitting on the bed and started coughing. The coughing prompted me to gag and start dry-heaving. The dry-heaving made me lose my bladder. Oh! and since along with the constipation, you can always get gas, that started up too. I was throwing up, farting and peeing all at the same time. That had to be the most humiliating thing I ever been through. It was sad to look at my husband and see the disgusted-yet-priceless look on his face as he (I'm sure) wondered whatever happened to the "Hawaiian Tropic" girl he'd married, all skinny, with all the makeup and beautiful hair...
Fortunately I never got stretch marks (that's one thing), but my back was always hurting, my belly itched, I was tired, uncomfortable and to top it off I thought I was queen of the world.
There were more complaints, to be sure, but the thought was to maybe one day write a book about the real side of pregnancy... The one that prepares you to completely surrender yourself as if you'd been abducted by sadistic aliens who also (by the way I didn't mention this yet) enjoy planting strange little hairs all over your breasts.
Bracing myself,
Gabriela