#littlelindley lessons

This week we are so thankful, and lucky, and bowing down to the magic as we celebrate the little boy in my tummy being FULL-TERM! For 39 weeks he has grown, and danced, made be barf far too much, and caused my body and brain to fall completely apart. For 39 weeks I have grown, and we have all felt him swim around, without any complications. 39 weeks sounds (and definitely feels) like an eternity, and while it hasn't always been comfy, this adventure has taught me so much about life, and love, the world around us, and about myself. 

A lesson I learned possibly a little too late, is to accept that I am pregnant and don't HAVE to keep acting like I can do everything all on my own! No matter how hard pregnancy is, I think it's a natural reaction for a woman to say, 'oh no, don't be silly, I don't NEED that chair that you are offering to my currently giant and exhausted body!' Lol. It is very important to not only accept help with great thanks, but to ask for it when you need it. Whether its help getting bags of groceries to your car, or asking your husband to bring you a Kleenex at 5am, because getting out of bed to relieve your allergic stuffy nose is far too painful.
I have learned that a support system is key during the '9' months of pregnancy, and I don't just mean from your excited family and friends. If getting pregnant in the first place wasn't lucky enough, I also found myself quickly invited into a spectacular club of new friends (there's 20 of us now!), all due within a few weeks of each other over the summer/fall months. There are in fact many 'mommy groups' on Facebook, but being so close, timeline-wise to these women is what has made this particular group so special, and this pregnancy so much easier. Being able to share worries, and questions, and crazy cravings, and advice, and resources with ladies who know exactly what I'm going through, has left far less room for my anxiety to kick in. 

I feel extra lucky, because I'm in the middle of the bunch! Almost half have had their teeny babes already, and being able to hear their stories, and get their advice definitely makes my last days of waiting more relaxed. And soon enough I'll be able to feel useful, and chime in when the later few moms are in the home stretch with a million questions.
It's also all typed and shared without judgement. That's likely the best part. No question is too dumb, no worry is too ridiculous, and no complaint ever leads to a 'suck it up'. Because I've also learned over the past few months that being pregnant comes with so much judgement. 

The first time I walked into a sushi restaurant with an obvious bump, is the first time I really felt those 'what a terrible mother' vibes. Little did any of those lovely strangers know, I didn't eat actual (raw fish) sushi even before I was pregnant. And just last week while picking up a coffee for a friend, a nearby mother had the nerve to tell me that drinking coffee isn't healthy for a pregnant woman. I could have pointed out that the drink was for a friend, and that even before pregnancy I was never a coffee drinker. Instead I politely pointed out that smoking in front of her young child ALSO wasn't very healthy. 

Pregnant women are judged when they walk into a bar for their husband's Birthday party, when they eat Subway for dinner, when they crave something as unhealthy as McDonalds, when they choose naps over going out with friends, when they continue to take (though a lower dose) their anti-anxiety meds while with child, and when they take Gravol on top of the prescription morning sickness drug, because its just not working well enough. Pregnant women are judged when they wear tight or tummy-baring clothes, and also when they wear nothing but baggy sweatpants for a month straight. Pregnant women are judged when they choose to take some time off work because the throwing up is too exhausting, when they gain too much or too little weight, and when their farts are naturally way too smelly! Don't even get me started on the judgement and shame and flat out insults that get thrown around when someone you don't even know decides its time to throw words like 'circumcision' or 'vaccinations' into the conversation. 

The 40ish weeks of judgement however, only helps prepare a woman for the 40 YEARS of judgment that is sure to kick in as soon as she pushes her baby out into the world. Soon I'll be bump-less and be able to walk into any restaurant or any bar freely, but I'll be dealing with fellow grocery-shoppers who feel the need to comment on my crying baby, or the people who think you're an animal for taking a baby outside of your safe and secure home at all, before he's at least 6 months old! Ive spent these last months preparing myself to undoubtedly be told that the diapers I'm using are filling our landfills and killing our planet, and that it's wrong to bottle feed every once and a while, because anything but breast milk is basically poison. Surely a lesson in growing a thicker skin, and biting my tongue in public will come soon enough...

The lesson I had the hardest time accepting? Vanity = insanity. Worrying about your size, and stretch marks, and your complexion, and what your toots smell like will literally make you insane. 

I spent far too much time squeezing my tummy/bladder into normal leggings, because I didn't want to buy bigger sizes, or 'have' to spend money on actual maternity wear, which at the time feels like admitting defeat. And underwear! Nothing is more comfortable that undies that fit loosely and smoothly, but it took me too long to buy a size Large, after years of Smalls and Extra Smalls. Since getting sick with Endometriosis, I've spent years losing weight, so gaining weight was a big deal for me, no matter how wonderful of an excuse I've had. It's a very different feeling! I got to a point where I was TOO skinny, but I got very used to that, and gaining weight took much longer to get used to. Even now, 38 weeks later I jokingly cringe when the OB says its time to get on the scale, already knowing that I've always been in the 'average' weight-gain spectrum for my natural size. But maybe that's just a female thing, unfortunately. 

Stretch marks have been another crazy-maker for me. And I can only assume for most women...just because they're basically inevitable. I started with the extra moisturizing/oil rubbing routine as soon as I peed on the positive stick, proud I was so on top of things! And for months I smiled thinking I was one of the lucky ones, because my tummy stayed smooth and blemish-free (minus all the veins, lol it's insane how obvious the veins on my tummy and my boobs have become!). It was only a few weeks ago that I finally noticed the first red line, under my belly button (hiding!). I started to moisturize like, 4 times a day after that, but low and behold, a few more stretch mark friends have joined that first one now. Seemingly overnight! And I cried. More then once actually, especially knowing that there can be little secret ones that don't show up until after baby is out. 

But that's life! That's being pregnant! It's genes (and some people do in fact have magical no-stretch-mark-genes. Assholes.), and it's having a small tummy naturally that then needs to stretch extra. I don't think I'll ever be one of those 'I love my stretch marks, I'm a warrior that's earned her stripes!' moms, but I have learned that there's really no point in spending any energy being upset over such things. Every time I look in the mirror, and think 'UGH!', I just have to remind myself that (very) soon there will be a baby in this picture with me, a baby we are SO lucky to have, and everything else has been a small price to pay. 

I think the very greatest lesson I've learned, is to never again doubt myself. I was FULL of doubt in the beginning! I never doubted how badly I wanted a baby, and wanted a family with my husband, but I completely doubted my ability to survive the pregnancy part of it.
Nausea used to kill me even before I ever imagined being a mom..how the heck was I going to survive morning sickness (never mind for 6 months)? A gurggly 'possibly diarrhea, better find the closest bathroom' tummy used to crank my anxiety into high gear..how was I going to survive a BABY in my 'tummy', kicking and swimming and stretching constantly? A baby with legs and fingers and eyeballs, INSIDE OF ME?! The baby isn't even born, and I've already spent so much time worrying that I was going to fail this ultimate physical and mental test. 

But here I am! Here we are...basically at the finish line, because the next few days are just a bonus! There have been MANY anxious moments. There have been many moments anxious enough, to be angry that you can't take Ativan while pregnant. I'm also still on edge about what has to be an inevitable panic attack that will kick in once labor actually starts. But! I have already survived so many weeks of growing, and carrying an actual baby! He can come at any time now, healthy and happy. And I got him here. And if I can do this, have survived this, there is nothing else out there worth doubting myself over. (Unless you were to ask me to eat a tarantula. I may still doubt my ability to do that.)

I can say with quite a bit of confidence that I will still never carry another baby/endure a second pregnancy, but I have learned enough to know that doesn't make me any less of a woman. Not wanting to, or being able to do it again doesn't make this victory, and this adventure any less meaningful, or any less to celebrate. I have still done THIS, and will never consider it to be any less then impressive. And my last minutes of pregnancy tick by, regardless of how uncomfy these 39 weeks have been, regardless of how tough some of the lessons have been to learn, I will never consider this experience, and all the people involved, as anything less then magic. 

Ps. The pressure is on. There is an endless number of life lessons that I will have to teach him, in order to repay him for all he's taught me, even before he was born!