Dear Pregnancy

Dear Pregnancy,

I totally understand you making me get up in the middle of the night to pee. Makes perfect sense that there is less and less room for my bladder. But making me get up in the middle of the night to vomit? Not cool.

I can deal with the stretch marks, the leg cramps, the ligament pain, the indigestion. The nausea is not my favorite. It makes me cry.

Giving me a super-human sense of smell might be considered a blessing; but when those smells trigger more vomiting, it is actually a curse. Most people don't realize that they are walking perfumeries. Well, I can smell every scent. Their clothes are covered in fumes of laundry detergent, fabric softener, dryer sheets. Their bodies reek of deodorant, shampoo, conditioner, lotion, moisturizer, nail polish, hair spray, gel, and then some top it all off with cologne or perfume! Smelling those overpowering smells with my super-human nose is not fun. In fact, it makes me actually grateful for a stuffy nose, which I purposely don't blow because I need something to block all the smells.

Speaking of messing with my senses, let's talk about taste. What have you done to the orange Skittles? I used to enjoy those; now they taste like poison! And then there's milk. My family thinks I am the biggest milk snob in the world because I can't drink it more than one day old. True story. It tastes awful unless it is that fresh. And the taste in my mouth. Yuck. Constant rottenness. I've tried sleeping with gum in my mouth, but halfway through the night I swallowed it. And that made me wake up. And extra wakings are not appreciated.

On to the headaches. I am plagued plenty by headaches when I'm NOT pregnant, but you, pregnancy, make it even worse. Is that really necessary?

Emotional craziness. I actually don't mind it so much. It isn't too inconvenient. But when my friend posts a picture like this on facebook from one of her orphanages, I cry and cry and cry. Is this the saddest picture in the world or what?

An orphan sleeping on a drawing of his mother on the floor of his room.

And last night I watched a movie about the Martin & Willie Handcart companies, called "17 Miracles." Very well made and quite touching, but I should have known not to watch it while pregnant. I got a headache from crying so much. And then I felt so sheepish for wallowing in my own misery when these people were burying their babies in the snow and cutting off their own frozen toes. It was a sob fest all around.

But, pregnancy, despite all my complaining of you and your trials, I do realize that it is through you that I get to have a tiny, delightful little person for my very own. And a tiny person happens to be the best miracle in the whole world, in my experience. And each time I get to meet my very own new tiny person, I am filled with more love than I ever thought possible. And I know it shows just what an easy life I've had to admit this, but pregnancy is the hardest trial of my entire life. But that means I'm pretty darn lucky. And for that, I am grateful.

Sincerely,
Elise

P.S. Isn't it a little early for the back aches?