It seems like, in the last handful of months, I have heard some variation of the phrases “Boy, you guys have had it rough” and “This hasn’t been an easy pregnancy” from a wide range of family, friends, and even my OB. I guess that last one should have been my tipping point to believing or at least at acknowledging the truth behind these comments, but for the most part, I’ve tried to “Oh, well, yeah, it’s been interesting…” and Pollyanna my way through them. Not that I’ve been a total saint about handling the ups and downs. I did document most of our trials here which was borderline complaining at times, so if you’ve been following along during this pregnancy you know what our holidays were like and how much we wanted April’s shenanigans to up and leave us. For some reason, though, I just couldn’t bring myself to agree with the idea that this baby was causing me fits.
Maybe that’s because that wasn’t the intended message behind the comments. Of course the baby hasn’t been trying to make life difficult; we’ve just had some difficult days of life while waiting for him/her to arrive. After all, doesn’t that seem fair? No one can expect anything to go perfectly or smoothly – certainly not for 40 weeks, and certainly not when you already have Littles in your house who are more than ready to share their sweet sticky kisses (and sweet sticky germs) with you day and night. There will be hiccups. And bugs. And stomach bugs. And it was the latest round of stomach bugs that brought me to my acceptance of giving in – but mind you, not giving up – to the notion that this hasn’t been the easiest of roads to Baby.
Long story short, because you’ve heard enough of our health blahs, we spent the last week cycling, every couple of days, through someone else in the house having the stomach flu. HD started it a week ago yesterday and yesterday I finished it. Well, at least I think/hope/pray/will-do-just-about-anything-to-insure-that we’ve finished it. And I have to say, obvious as it may seem, being 9 months pregnant and sick with the flu is worse than any other month pregnant and sick with the flu. My belly is too big and my energy is too low to handle extra exertion right now, so yesterday about did me in. TMI warning, but I spent most of last night praying that my cervix would just stay shut because I was terrified of going into labor when I was already feeling so down and out.
Well, thank goodness the baby and my body listened, because I got through the night, and today both my stomach and my faith that “I can do this” are regaining strength. That’s good because I’m hoping for my third natural delivery and let’s face it – any delivery takes some major will power and determination; not something you want to go into right after being sick. Seeing as tomorrow is only 37 weeks, I’m hoping we get plenty more rest and recovery time before this sweet little peanut makes her/his grand entrance. If I end up going overdue again, I’ll regret these words, but really, Sweet Pea, there’s no rush. You do what you need to do in there and we’ll be here waiting for whenever you’re ready to come. All those rough days and nights? They will just become part of your story, part of what makes you strong and a fighter, and part of what makes our family stronger, too.
So, has it been a rough road? At times, absolutely. Will it be worth it in the end? All the time, absolutely.