I’ve got the fever. Nope, not a fever – the fever (cue music and dancing). Pregnancy fever, to be exact. Most people will tell you that they get baby fever. Seeing a squishy little newborn can do that to a person, making them wish that they had their own little bundle of love. But to be honest, I didn’t love the newborn stage. Really, the thought of sleepless nights, feeding every two hours, and diapers after diapers after diapers doesn’t exactly make me feel all nostalgic and fuzzy. I really, really like my sleep and my personal space and things that smell good. However, seeing a huge, gorgeous pregnant belly does.
Lest you think I had amazing, problem-free pregnancies during which I glowed and gained only 9 pounds and recovered in a week with no scars or lasting weight gain, think again. Pregnancy was hard.
With my first, I gained all over my body. My arms, ankles, face – everything! – were puffy and sore. I was sick (whoever decided to call it morning sickness obviously never suffered from the urge to vomit every single moment they were awake for weeks on end). And, finally, at the end of the pregnancy I thought she might never come out. I was a week past my due date and crying every day.
With my second pregnancy, I got a bonus baby (that was unexpected!) and carried twins. With that bonus came a label – high risk – and even more weight gain (I stopped counting when I had gained 65 pounds), although this time all of it was in my belly area. I was over 4 feet around. You can imagine that raises some challenges when you want to do things. Like walk. Again, morning sickness lasted all hours, for almost seventeen weeks. And to make matters worse, my little stinker wedged herself in there footling breech, so that they had to cut me open on delivery day.
So, after two births and three kids I am left with twin skin, scars, and a good chance of wetting my pants any time I sneeze. And I would do it all again in a second, and LOVE it. Because despite all the issues and the pain and the scars I have never felt as good about myself and the world as I did when I was pregnant. The fact that our bodies can do something as amazing as to nurture and sustain life is incredible.
I feel very fortunate that my body was lucky enough to complete this journey for me. I know that often women feel betrayed by their bodies or feel as if they have failed when a pregnancy doesn’t go as intended. But they haven’t failed. They have provided the most loving and lovely home for that life inside. Pregnancy isn’t always a happy ending, but it is always an amazing thing.
So I feel the fever. I feel the ache for a baby – in my belly. After they’re out? Well, I’ll love them, but they don’t inspire the fever. Until about 15 months in. I do start to get a temperature for the terrible twos.
So, do you feel the fever?
What do you think? Feel the Fever?