Not so tough.

Back in the day, I thought I was tough. As the youngest child, I was trained by the best and knew that if ya wanted to play the game, you weren't allowed to cry. No matter what.

When I got to college, I started running. For someone who felt like she had conquered the world after running 5 miles, running a marathon was a bit intimidating BUT, being the "tough" girl, it was of course, no big deal. I used to push myself to the max. It was completely normal for me to run a half marathon on a Saturday morning, then play 3 hours of volleyball right after before any soreness crept in my muscles. I’d push myself through the day maintaining high energy levels and scheduling events with friends in the evening because I was TOUGH. I was fun. I could do ANYTHING. I loved it.

Well, I THOUGHT I was tough stuff. I THOUGHT I could suck up whatever physical challenge came and face it with pure gumption. But I think I’ve met my match. It’s called pregnancy.

I had NO CLUE what this would entail. I am in awe of how many people exist on earth. They all got here the same way, and everyone’s mom had to go through this insanity.

First, I want to share that I’m more than grateful to be pregnant. I’m excited beyond belief and am very aware of how lucky I am. The following documentation isn’t to complain. In fact, it’s to joy in the reality of what is. It’s to realize that life is tough. I have an unwavering testimony that motherhood isn’t an easy thing and I haven’t even held my child in my arms yet. I feel that women and the strength they hold is one of my greatest inspirations. I’m honored to join in this calling and blessing.

That being said, I have had quite an entertaining past 6 months. It’s entertaining NOW, which is why the post is so late. Most of this is to record the horror that has now subsided enough to make it entertaining.

FOOD AND NAUSEA
I’m very grateful these days are over:

The days of puking. It lasted 6 months. I’ve had 2 weeks of peace (minus a very depressing morning today), and though the nausea is still there, I can function. GLORY.

The days of having to eat cereal every TWO HOURS, 24 hours a day. That means all the way through the night. Spencer used to get up and pour my cereal and milk while I went to the bathroom and sprawled helplessly on the couch. He eventually purchased paper bowels and plastic spoons to help with the dish load. I won’t share how many packages of those dang paper bowls I went through.
The days of moaning in my sleep. At least, I think these are over. Spencer says I used to whine and moan while I was sleeping. And I’m sure I did. I WANTED to do that all day, every day!

The days of plugging my nose and trying to cook without looking at the food. Spencer would usually take over for these ones as frying hamburger without looking can cause some pretty ouch-y grease burns.

The days of puking at the sight or smell of anything. If there was a pan soaking in the sink, the smell would make me puke. If we ate dinner, left our house, and returned the smell of old dinner would make me puke. If Spencer opened his bag of his ever favorite Chile Cheese Fritos… oh man. Ew. Ew. Ew.

The days of walking around work, the mall, or ANYWHERE with my mouth open because I couldn’t handle the smells that came by breathing through my nose.

I have the strangest food likes and dislikes:

I lived on Nilla Wafers, Cereal, Arby’s, Burger King chicken nuggets, canned peaches with cottage cheese, and green mints. I’m gagging just writing these foods down. YUCK!

I now live on Wendy’s French fries and frosties (though the phase MIGHT be coming to an end). Taco Bell, saltines and PB (my new midnight snack), bagels, and quite a joyous variety of dinners.

My very first and pretty much only REAL pregnancy craving was for McDonald’s Sausage-Egg McMuffins. WOW. One day, the glorious vision came to my mind and when I made my first purchase, I realized I was eating food that tasted GOOD- which was a feeling I’d been lacking for months. One day I asked if Spencer would bring me one to work. I didn’t think he got the message in time and after calling McDonalds to find out when they stopped making breakfast (10:30 at our local store) I accepted that I’d have to come up with a new food plan. But Spencer is amazing and had already purchased the glorious muffin before I even knew it. I cried tears of joy that day. Not just a few. They were pouring down my cheeks in endless streams. I randomly hate chocolate. Saddest thing ever.

I love gummy worms and starbursts. Why?

I suck on Jolly Ranchers, Wurthers, and Kraft Caramels all day. Every day. Sugar overload. I really hope my diabetes test goes alright next week!!!

Ice. I LOVED ice until one day around week 18. Now I hate it for absolutely no reason….unless it’s the square kind from fast-food restaurants- especially Taco Bell. I LOVE their ice water.

In the beginning, I couldn’t STAND salt. By week 20, all I wanted was salty French-fries and Chex Mix.

JUST A FEW SMALL INCONVENIENCES
My throwing up all the time got to a point where I had to take off my pants and put paper towels under me because I peed my pants every time. Then after the deed was done, I’d have to clean up my puddle of pee and rinse myself in the shower. It made puking multiple times a day VERY inconvenient. Once I had to have Spencer bring me a change of clothes at work. I think that was my “rock bottom” day. I cried. And then I laughed because I had to call home and report that I’d peed my pants. How old am I?

Sleep? The baby’s going to be a BREEZE. (Don’t worry, I’m not that naïve. But STILL.) I haven’t slept more than 4 hours straight since getting pregnant. Usually it’s 2 hours at a time. On the weekends, I can pack in a 12 hour night like a champion (with my 2 hour wake ups, of course). In all honesty, this sleep pattern gives me optimal awareness of Spencer sleep talking. He’s HILLAROUS. If I were to sleep all night, I’d miss it all! I never knew how much fun he while he slept.

My medicine makes me extra constipated on top of what pregnancy would typically bring. “Poo babies” are a common phrase at our house. I consider it preparation for child birth. I’ve also clogged our toilet pretty badly a few times. I went off my medicine for a glorious yet horrible week, thinking the drugs weren’t helping me. My bowels were the happiest they’ve been in months. My nausea became unbearable though (week 24!!!) and my midwife said to choose the lesser of two evils. I’m back to poo babies.

I used to wake up with insane pains on my sides- round ligament pains is what I was told they were. OUCH! I’ve been pretty okay lately.

Except I sometimes get this INTENSE cramping on my upper abdomen. My midwife says it’s probably premature contractions. Luckily I only get one every few weeks or so (meaning 2 so far) which is considered safe and normal, but my oh my, when they start coming every few minutes I might die. Pure pain and the inability to breathe= not a fun combo.

I have to put a blanket under my belly at night because otherwise I get too sore. It kind-of makes me think I’m tucking Alora in and I smile.

HOT. I get SO HOT. In fact, just last night I requested the fan to be turned on. In the middle of the night, I heard poor Spencer getting on his wool socks and sweatpants and shivering under the covers. I was only using the sheet.

Burping! I’ve always been a burping girl. I think it’s a part of my subconscious that has to live up to my “nearly nauseating” title given by my mother at a decently young age. However, it has become a little intense. I used to hold back the burps at work and then I’d get the hiccups. John used to comment all the time on my hiccups and I would think….if he only knew what they WANTED to be. Now, I wake Spencer up every morning as his burping alarm clock. It works nicely. The only sadness I’ve really had with this is hearing my mom say she thought she finally had a classy daughter…. But now she can’t say that. I didn’t know my sister’s weren’t classy! So sad to have ruined the title without even realizing I was worthy of it. It’s okay though. She said I still appear classy even if I’m not.

Driving. Oh how many times did I drive up the hill after work giving myself positive affirmations of “I CAN MAKE IT” to get home and throw up instantly? Spencer at one point wondered if I had conditioned myself to throw up every time I walked in our house. No, but I did train myself to be able to “make it.” I always had a plastic bag in my car- just in case. But really? How do you throw up AND drive AND not pee all over the seat? Yeah. I had incentive to make it home.

We once went on a road trip to Boise. We had gone on a very successful trip a couple weeks earlier where I had a miraculous weekend of not throwing up, so we had high hopes for the healing power of Idaho. Boy, were we wrong. I don’t know how many stinkin’ gas station nasty toilets I threw up in on our drive home, or how many times I made Spencer stop. I was MISERABLE and vowed to not take another road trip until I was ALL BETTER. And I haven’t. I’ve only even gone to visit Paige and Brent in Midvale twice. And that’s only a half hour away!

SAD REALIZATIONS
I watched 2.5 seasons of LOST in about 3 weeks.

I get commercial jingles stuck in my head on a regular basis. I used to not even know what commercials were on.

Dinner gives me anxiety. Still. It’s the hardest part of the day because I NEVER know what to eat but I’m ALWAYS starving and nauseous.

I really struggle with Sundays. They’re not my favorite anymore, which is sad. I have to decide what to eat the day BEFORE and I can never know what’s going to taste good that far away. I used to bring my snack to church, leave sacrament early to eat in the mother’s lounge, and do all I could to make it through primary without throwing up. I actually only threw up ONCE at church- but many many many times the second I walked in the door after. 

GRATITUDE
Yes, I did maintain a tiny spark of gratitude through all my tears, whining, and frustrations:

I used to send Spencer to whatever restaurant we were getting food at or to the grocery store for whatever ingredients we were going to need for HIM to cook dinner. Bless his heart. He even bought me plastic ‘old people’ containers to put my various cereals in because they were overtaking the counter and didn’t fit in the cupboard. THANK YOU, SPENCER!

I obviously struggle from nausea, and through my entire life I’ve struggled with motion sickness. When I first started feeling Alora move, it made me feel woozy. I was so stressed that she would make me motion sick EVERY TIME SHE MOVED. Luckily, that’s not the case and I’m SO grateful.

Once, I got ready for the day. It really was an incredibly RARE happening. I did my hair and my make-up and was so excited to go to church. I even had on a cute dress. Then it hit. Puke time. I ran to the bathroom but holding back my hair AND holding up my dress to avoid pee stains wasn’t working. I was so worried I was going to throw up all over my freshly done hair when Spencer stepped in and held it back for me. This is one of those honorable husband tasks I’ve heard women speak of. I’ve always told Spencer- PLEASE just LEAVE ME ALONE if I’m puking. I don’t want you close, I don’t want you to hear me, and I REALLY don’t want you touching me! What a man to recognize a woman in true need. I was humbled and VERY grateful that I could still wear my hair down.

Spencer calls me his “big bellied beauty” with all the love and adoration of a perfect husband.

When I wake up feeling sick it the night, I drink water. In my tired mind, I picture the water washing the nausea into oblivion like a huge tsunami. Even knowing this isn’t logical, I still find myself creating the mental image every time I take a drink in the night. It’s my saving grace.

One day I was at work and had no idea what to do with how sick I was feeling. I texted Spencer who went to the store for me and brought me a bag full of the random foods I thought might help. He actually did this a few different times, and offered to do it many additional times. What do single women do?!!?? There’s NO WAY I could have made it through without him. I hope he knows how much it means to me- and that he wasn’t just my “go-do-boy.”

Wake-up Call

In reality, after writing this post I’ve realized a few updates about my “tough” life before. I actually thought I was going to die when I had mono. And I cried and cried and cried when I slammed my finger in my car door. I also used to cry when Adam would tackle me on the trampoline. Maybe I’m not so tough after-all. Either way, I won’t even PRETEND that pregnancy is easy.