By Karyn Cossey
I see them in magazines, sitting across from me in cafes and on TV. Glowing, beautiful, happy, pregnant mums.
Wow.
How I wish I could look and feel like that, is what I think as I sit there with my mouth swilling, my head pounding and wishing I could just curl up in bed and hide from the world till this pregnancy is over. To be able to spend it all flat on my back so my ankles would return full stop and I could fit my shoes again.
Now don’t get me wrong, I adore my little girl and I’m beyond thankful every day that I am able to even get pregnant. I’m thankful, as I’m fully aware that there are couples out there who as hard as they try, it just doesn’t happen for them, and for them my heart breaks.
But I have to be honest with you… I just don’t pregnant well. And I always hid it. Buck up Karyn, sort your shit out Karyn, be thankful Karyn, everyone else can do it Karyn… so you should be able to no problem! That’s what I’d keep telling myself. I’d force a smile and tell everyone that everything is just peachy (even though I felt like a pile of crap) then go home and cry.
Well here we are at pregnancy number two, and I’m not sorry (this time) to say that I still don’t pregnant well. Fourteen weeks of head down a toilet, a good dose of thrush that is hanging in there till the bitter end, varicose veins in places they should NEVER be… but sadly are, and a good solid back ache that is just starting. To me this is just the (very long) bump in the road before I get to meet our new bundle. A means to an end. I don’t glow, I don’t skip down the road, I have trouble doing more than yoga, and you know what, I don’t care this time what people think. And I’m not smiling and telling everyone how glorious it is, and boy oh boy it’s liberating.
By changing my mindset, and being honest with people when they ask, “And how are you?”, has taken a great pressure off myself. I don’t go into details of any kind (unless I’m swapping stories with a fellow mama), but just respond with, “It’s OK, but I don’t really pregnant well, to be honest!”
Sometimes it’s met with raised eyebrows, to which I just smile and say, “Not all of us do you know”, and sometimes it’s met with a great sigh of relief that someone else (me) other than them didn’t really enjoy being pregnant.
