Tiny's Transformation

I don’t want this to sound like a whine-fest but the struggle was real. If one could enjoy a struggle, I really did enjoy mine and I was thankful for every minute, but struggle I did.

To this day, I’m still not sure if I’ll ever be able to even look at scallions or riced cauliflower again. I turn the channel if they are featured on a cooking show. I could SWEAR the smell of that single meal was embedded in our hallway carpet; I would hold my breath every morning when I walked out of the bedroom. My mom even came to clean the carpet and our entire house and I still felt like I was trapped in an odorous prison. I was only 5 weeks pregnant with Tiny, and sicker than sick. For at least the next 15 weeks, I barely survived 3 stomach virus’, constant morning sickness, and intense acid reflux. I did my best to put on a brave face, but a few days were so bad, I almost had to go to the hospital because I wasn’t sure if I was even peeing any more. Let me repeat that. I’m a nurse, and I wasn’t able to distinguish a vitally basic bodily function. Imagine calling the on-call OB to tell him that. I felt mentally weak a bit idiotic, and mostly embarrassed.

 

I could barely keep my eyes open, I was so tired and beat down. I barely talked to anyone at work; it was all I could do to go through the motions. I let Dillon watch a ton of videos on my phone so he would sit in my lap and chill while I dozed off for who knows how long at a time, just to get through the day…..winning Mom of the year on this one, I know. Somehow living off applesauce and refried beans, I didn't cook, EVER. I was a hot mess, and Patrick was scared of me most of the time, but my skin was glowing, and it gave me this gut feeling that a girl was brewing.

Of course, we would have been thrilled no matter what, we already were. But if this was a girl, I REALLY wanted to know. I wanted to have bows and flowers and tutus, and all things pretty in her room, so I needed to rationalize. Yes, the gender surprise was amazing the first go around and I wouldn’t trade that experience, but this baby would be born in the winter and that would mean she shouldn’t be out and about like a summer baby, I said. Anyway, I wouldn’t have as much time to go out and get things after her birth because I would have TWO kids to tote around this time and be post c-section, I said. I NEED to know this baby’s gender, it just makes the most sense, I said. Patrick was finally convinced and on week 20 we got to change the title of my belly pics from "Tiny" to "Mabel Jane" and dress her in her very first bow, a digital pink lace one. We were elated! Patrick finally admitted that he was hoping we were having a girl, but felt too guilty to say it out loud. I say there’s nothing guilty about hope.

 

 

 

 

From this point on, my pregnancy would get much easier, minus the moderately painful suprapubic pressure Miss Mabel seemed to never let up on (a belly band helped, but who wants to wear an extra layer during the hottest part of the year?!?!), and enduring the excruciating heat of summer outside with Dillon, who seemed to never notice we were actively melting. We walked many, many miles of sidewalks. He was obsessed with pushing his ridable firetruck down the block and famous for not wanting to walk or ride back home, so I would end up carrying his 40lb-kicking-and-screaming-self back on one side of my body while holding the firetruck on the other, fetus Mabel cluelessly bouncing around in the middle. Around week 36 or so, I had Patrick hide the firetruck. I just couldn’t do it anymore.

 

Tidbits I remember about having Mabel in my belly:

1.     Dillon loved to use my belly as an arm rest and would curl up around it at night as I rocked him before bed.

2.     Mabel danced the most during girl talk and when we sang.

3.     Even though my Mabel belly didn’t look any bigger than my Dillon belly, it was shaped different and felt gigantic!

4.     Mabel liked to get aggressive at night as soon as I would lay down to go to sleep; sometimes she kicked or punched me so hard and sharp I would yelp out loud!

5.     I loved guilting Patrick into slathering the belly butter on my belly and back every night.

6.   I had obvious diastasis recti by about 16 weeks (and I'm still working on putting all that back together!).  

My Mabel Belly, Natalia (post Ale's belly), and Cristina's Lucas Belly

7. Mabel almost always laid the same way, pushing her butt out to the left side of my belly, making it lopsided. It felt sooooooo bizarre and awkward when she switched it up on occasion; you could watch the obvious lump slowly shift over to the right. I think she thought it felt as strange as I did, because she never stayed that way for long.

Despite the challenges, I loved being pregnant, and feel very fortunate to have had the opportunity. Every kick. Every nudge. Every hiccup.......those are the things I'll miss the most. It's such a special feeling, growing a new person and having that tiny person with you every second of the day and knowing they are so cozy and happy and have all of their needs met, yet have the building anticipation of meeting them all the while, brewing such a feeling a excitement. It's truly a life changing experience.