Before my daughter Bailey was born, we experienced nearly five years of infertility struggles. Months of charting, invasive testing, over a year of Clomid, four unsuccessful intrauterine inseminations and finally a laparoscopy during which I was diagnosed and treated for a mild case of endometriosis.
During those years I made the No Complaining Rule, vowing to myself that if I was ever lucky enough to get pregnant, no one would ever hear me complain. Never ever. I would savor every ache, every pain, every misery. Who cared if I was uncomfortable, I would be pregnant. There wasn't a physical misery around which could overcome the joy of that.
Three months after the laparoscopy -- and right about the time we gave up on ever having a child -- I found out I was pregnant with Bailey! The joy! I had never been more excited in my life. And five months after she was born, I was happily pregnant again. For the most part, I was able to live up to the No Complaining Rule I had set for myself during the infertility crisis years. Of course, having two very easy pregnancies with only slight twinges of nausea from time to time made my vow an easy one to honor.
That was then, this is now
I am really feeling depleted from this pregnancy. I can't remember ever feeling this low when I was pregnant with Bailey and Hannah Mac. Despite never-ending nausea, I have been able to keep everything down... mostly. But constant nausea and constant nibbling on stuff that doesn't even sound all that good to keep the serious puking at bay is getting very old after ten weeks of it. And the fatigue, oof, the fatigue is almost as bad. Normally, my peak production hours are from 7 pm to midnight. These days I'm in bed by 7 pm, which makes me feel like a slouch on top of the physical malaise.
And there is no such thing as "peak production." I am neglecting my children, my husband, my household projects, my gardens (such as they are... choked by weeds and drought-stricken flower husks). I don't cook, I don't shop, I don't have a sense of humor, I make promises I don't remember making and then forget to keep. I am a lethargic slug. I am even breaking my No Complaining Rule and indulging in self-pity. In short, I feel like my life is in complete shambles, even though I know it could be SO much worse.
First trimester burn-out
From everything I've read, I know that I should be turning the corner very soon. I am so ready. Right now I just feel like I'm on the fast-track to pregnancy burn-out. It's funny, because before I got pregnant, I longed to be pregnant again, remembering all the blissful pregnancy moments, like hearing the heartbeat for the first time the wonder of baby movements, the rush of giving birth and the sweet smell of a newborn. I never gave any thought to first trimester hell, heartburn, aching pelvis, labor pain, or postpartum sleep deprivation. Now that stuff is all I can think of and I wonder what was I thinking when I thought it would be awesome to be pregnant again? There has got to be some balance here! Second trimester... take me awaaaaay!
In the meantime, I keep looking at the two wonderful children I already have and reminding myself that this is my reward: Another unique personality coming into my life, with chubby baby thighs and eyes only for me. This current misery, too, shall pass and someday I'm sure I will look back on it fondly (at heart, I am very sappy).
There is another little person in there and I know that makes it all worth it. :-)