Society tells us by way of magazine covers, blog posts, and Pinterest boards that pregnancy should be the happiest time in a woman's life. We're glowing, we have wonderful, thick pregnancy hair, the second trimester sex, need I say more?! It wasn't until about 2 weeks after those little pink lines appeared on the three (yes, read three) tests that I called B.S. on what society was telling me. I hated being pregnant. Was I a bad mom already?
We found out we were pregnant pretty early at about 3 weeks. I knew my body and knew things weren't quite right. On my way home from work, I nervously went in to a CVS and grabbed the little [read: expensive!] box and headed home. Later that night, I surprised my unsuspecting husband. That night was full of happy tears, hugs, and "holy crap!"'s.
At 7 weeks, we found ourselves in a South Carolina emergency room, in the middle of a relaxing vacation, with a Subchorionic Hemorrhage. Talk about a fun start to pregnancy! At this point, we had told our immediate family that we were expecting, but wanted to wait to tell our extended family and friends until we had our first ultrasound at our 8 week appointment. When we met with an ER doctor and he had given us our diagnosis, my first thought was, "Why have I never heard of this before?". This was my first indication that nobody likes to talk about the gritty details of being pregnant, the scary facts, the statistics of what could possibly go wrong and how often it does or doesn't. As a fact-chaser and a generally inquisitive person, I quickly took to the Internet and found comfort in knowing that not all pregnancies are butterflies and unicorns. Our ER doc. didn't tell us much, but he did tell us that we had ONE healthy baby and that for the next 3 weeks I needed to take it easy and not lift anything over 10 pounds. You can imagine how well I took this news knowing that we were closing on our first home and moving the week after we would be getting home from vacation.
Giving up control of the move was one of the hardest things I've had to do. If I have learned one thing during this pregnancy it's that asking for help is completely okay. During those three weeks, I relied more on my family and our friends than ever before. My parents came through for us with the move, Brandon worked his tail off to get our house feeling like our home, my Mom made us delicious food, my step-mom cleaned our new home and old, and our friends offered more prayers and emotional support than I could have ever asked for. All the while, I sat on my butt, arranged <10lb. decor, and said 'thank you' more times than I thought humanly possible.
Before we knew it, the first trimester had come and gone and we were so excited. Now, we had the second trimester to look forward to, right?
I cannot tell you how many nights I have crawled in to bed at 7:00 (my husband will argue 6:30). The second trimester burst of energy hadn't quite found me yet. I was determined, though, to push through. Before I knew it, a couple weeks of extreme fatigue came and went and I was left with the energy to get started on our baby girl's room! We took back-to-back trips to Ikea, we assembled furniture, painted, crafted, shopped, and before we knew it the room had come together and I had just enough energy to sit myself in the middle of her room, look around, and enjoy it. All of this right before another burst of fatigue set in - mainly due to lack of sleep.
Sitting here, at almost 25 (!!) weeks, I can honestly tell you I haven't enjoyed being pregnant as much as I thought I would have or as much as people told me I would have. However, at around 18 weeks, when I felt our daughter move for the first time while listening to ACDC on the way home from work, I felt like the first 18 miserable weeks were all worth it. The sleepless nights, the aching, growing uterus, the lack of energy - it was all worth it when I felt those little popcorn kicks.
It's true, not all pregnancies are the same. So, I'm sharing, I'm celebrating, and I'm trusting the Lord to take control of these last few months. He is good. He has nothing but good in mind for us. And I pray that no matter what the rest of our story holds, He uses it for His glory.
Emerson Leigh Britcher, as your Mom I promise to love you and protect you every day of your life. From the time you're born until the time we leave this Earth, your Dad and I vow to provide for you, in all aspects of life, as best we know how.
We pray for you every day and we cannot wait to see who you become. This pregnancy may not have started off how I imagined, and I may still complain about being tired and achy, but that doesn't mean I'm not excited to meet you, hold you, and continue to love you. Your Dad and I have created a lot of really amazing things in our 3 short years together, but none of these compare to the great joy and accomplishment we feel from having an incredible marriage and having you as a byproduct of that.