Those Girls

If you are anything like me, (and hopefully you are not), I secretly judged how other pregnant people acted when I wanted to be pregnant.  Like the ones that complained how hard, tiring, uncomfortable, inconvenient (feel free to fill in the blank) it was to be pregnant.  And those that made their husband's carry their purses because they were just too dainty to do so.

I vowed I would not be one of those girls.  And as a matter of integrity, I wasn't.  I was so determined to be grateful and to let the world know it.  As my husband could tell you, one of my favorite phrases is, "you should be so lucky", usually used humorously as to why he should feel so fortunate that I love him so much.  This great turn of phrase can easily be applied to the moms-to-be, whom I liberally judged. You should be so lucky that your back aches and your rings are too tight.  You should be so lucky you get winded going up a flight a stairs and can't bend to tie your laces.  I did, however,  suspend harsh judgement for those that were legitimately in a bad way such as excessively nauseous requiring hospital visits and severe sciattic nerve pain.  Bedrest also garnered my sympathies. Otherwise, if you waddled and wailed about it, you were on my list.

When I was pregnant with Evan, I vowed to complain as little as possible.  The god's honest truth, the most uncomfortable part of being pregnant for me (outside of taking progesterone and having an anal strep exam in my third trimester) is the consistent need to use public bathrooms, which repulses me.  But there were months that I didn't sleep and heartburn was my number one trusted companion.  I just didn't want to be like,  those girls.

In my own mind, I felt like I was better because I knew what a gift it was to feel those symptoms, because I knew what it was like when the symptoms suddenly went away.  However, I had an eye-opening experience the other day.  I was talking to someone that had lost a baby, was told she may never be able to carry a child, and then went on to have a child after four rounds of IUI.  She said, she was the opposite, she was so excited to finally be one of those girls that could complain about her back, her lack of a waistline, and the kicking that kept her up all night.

So while I have now walked a mile in those swollen feet, and know what it is like from an insider's and outsider's perspective, I realize now I was too judgmental.  And maybe if you find yourself rolling your eyes at your rotund, complaining friends, just know you too will soon be wanting to complain about the trouble with being pregnant.  So be careful what you judge, because you will really want to complain when your time comes.