Sorry for the radio silence, it’s been a rough few weeks over here.
Usually I can look at my pregnant body in the mirror and see just how amazing and capable it is. Despite flaws (love handles, love handles, please go away!) I can stand there and be in complete awe of the fact that there’s a baby — ANOTHER HUMAN! — growing safe and secure inside of me. I fall somewhere between being completely flabbergasted and humbled that I have been given the ability to grow a new life.
But lately I can’t help but feel disappointed and rejected by my body. This incredible, strong body of mine seems to be failing me physically. I’ve been starting to go to the chiropractor on a regular basis (which frankly, isn’t helping much at all), and every night a hot rice pack is an essential part of my bedtime routine. Somedays I just completely fall apart by 9am with exhaustion from the strain on my hips, legs, and core that I can barely move from the couch.
Maybe it’s because this is my third pregnancy in five years, but how did women in eras before us (and still now!) survive eight, nine, ten pregnancies?
I’m at a loss. I feel like crying all day long because the pain is so unbearable at times. I feel like I’m failing as a wife and mother, and I can’t keep up with any sort of normal routine.
I feel guilty and angry at myself for even complaining at all; I should know of all people what a blessing it is to have a healthy baby boy growing strong inside of me. So why do I feel so distraught and helpless?