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Friday, March 16, 2018

Journey to Motherhood: My Pregnancy


      My husband and I always knew we wanted to be parents. We had spent the last 6 years traveling, partying and living life carefree together, so we were pretty excited to begin this new chapter in our lives. The big question for us was “When should we start trying?” At 33 years old, I could hear my maternal time clock ticking away. I knew some women who struggled with infertility as well, and I didn't know if my own experience would be similar. On the other hand, I didn’t know if I was ever going to feel 100 percent ready for one of the biggest life changes I would ever experience. What about the trip to Africa that we never got around to doing? Should I go back to school first? There was always a long list of things I thought I had to do or accomplish before deciding to start a family since I was told many times that my needs would no longer take precedence once I had a child. For someone who has lived a very free and selfish life, and all of the sudden have to take a backseat was a huge pill to swallow. I knew that every time I visited my sister or friends with kids, I would feel so tired after just one day with them. How did she do it? All of these moms must have super human powers. How was I going to handle my child all day, every day? The truth is, motherhood can never be imagined until you are actually living it. This was difficult for me to come to terms with because I’m such a planner. Not knowing what I was getting myself into was a really scary thought. Yet, despite the hesitancy, my husband and I knew in our heart of all hearts we were more ready than ever to embark on this wonderful and mysterious world of parenthood. It scared the hell out of us, but nevertheless, we were ready.

     We planned to start trying after our Hawaii honeymoon in February, but little did we know, we already had a little bun in the oven. I went shark cage diving, paddle boarding and hiked six miles all before knowing I was  already pregnant. “Did I deserve this?” I would think to myself. We tried for only 4 months . I knew some friends that had such a long and difficult journey conceiving. I would hear stories about the endless IVF treatments, diet changes, and miscarriages they had to endure. So, why was I so lucky? I kept waiting for the ball to drop, but the first trimester came and went pretty easily. I felt so blessed. 

        Second trimester felt even better. My baby bump was starting to show, and I no longer looked like I was packing on the few extra pounds for no good reason.  I absolutely loved being pregnant. I had very little symptoms if any. Other than some mild dizziness and swelling, I was glowing. Having a little bump gave me the perfect excuse to indulge in  cravings that included a lot of almond boba milk teas and buttered toast. I didn’t necessarily go overboard, but I thought it was important to feel free and allow myself to enjoy my favorite foods without feeling too guilty. 

We surprised our family and announced we were expecting at my birthday pool party celebration. As they were all singing to me, my husband suddenly stopped everyone and revealed the real reason why they were all here. The look of shock on everyone’s face was priceless!  I was 16 weeks pregnant and we thought it would be fun to also announce our baby’s gender surrounded by family and friends. We wanted to be surprised with them. I gave the ultrasound  results to my work friend so she could order some confetti canons for the big reveal. It was kind of crazy thinking that she was the only person who knew the gender. Not even I knew.  Yet, it was such a treat to wait in anticipation with the rest of my family.

    Third trimester was definitely the hardest on me both physically and mentally. We had to endure genetics testing after a blood test scare, which took 10 days to get results . It felt like the longest 10 days of our lives, but luckily, our baby was okay. From then on, I started to experience some major swelling and elevated blood pressure. My nose grew like Pinocchio and my feet looked like marshmallows. My doctor finally told me it was time, and at 37 weeks I was ready to meet my sweet baby boy.


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