This post is not to tell you how I have loved being pregnant, how I have that “glow,” how I get to eat whatever I want, and the end result is a beautiful baby. This post is to say that I am 17 weeks pregnant. I spent the first 15 weeks hugging a toilet. I also spent the first
17 12 worrying that I’d lose my baby. I have not gained a single pound, but I was overweight before I got pregnant (thanks PCOS!), and was informed today by my doctor that I am not fit enough for his liking. I work 44+ hours a week on rotating shifts, including one 14-hour shift a week, and I can’t find time to do my laundry most days, but now have to start a regular exercise plan. I don’t eat whatever I want, because after vomiting every single day for several weeks, not much is all that appetizing. And my job? I don’t get a lunch break. Also, I have to worry about gestational diabetes (another shout out to my BFF – PCOS). I am exhausted, my head hurts, I can’t decide on a name for my son, my husband needs a new vehicle, we are supposed to be moving out of our rental house in November (did I mention I’ll be 7 months pregnant?), we can’t find a house we want to buy, I have both constant anxiety about my child and a constant urge to pee, and I have realized that I am too neurotic for this.
Today, I am 17 weeks 2 days pregnant. So, just in case you thought everything was Pinterest-perfect over here, it’s not. This is real life, y’all. It’s messy, but it’s still a blessing.