Yesterday I asked my husband what I should write about for week 25, and he responded by rattling off all the things I’ve been complaining about lately. I instantly felt guilty, like all I had […]
Yesterday I asked my husband what I should write about for week 25, and he responded by rattling off all the things I’ve been complaining about lately. I instantly felt guilty, like all I had been doing was grumbling about various discomforts when I should be grateful. I’m fully aware that there are plenty of women out there who struggle to get pregnant, and some who simply can’t no matter how hard they try. I can only imagine how heartbreaking that must be. This is why, despite how often I may gripe and complain, I thank my lucky stars for the cause of my back pain and itchy belly.
This past week, heartburn decided to join the party—and I suspect it intends to wear out its welcome. It doesn’t seem to be brought on by any particular type of food, nor does it rear its ugly head during a specific time of day. It comes and goes as it pleases without any consideration of the inconvenience it causes, like an ungrateful house guest. It’s unpleasant, uncomfortable and just plain awful, but it’s also emotionally comforting in a way.
Don’t get me wrong, heartburn is right there at the top of my list of annoying, frustrating and even painful pregnancy symptoms. I don’t enjoy the tight burning sensation that floods my chest, nor do I particularly relish in the bitter taste of stomach acid in the back of my throat. None of that is fun for me, but the physical discomfort brings a happy reminder. When the heartburn strikes, I can’t help but think of why it’s happening to me. Heartburn means my beautiful baby is growing as she should, and that my body is doing its job by making space for her, no matter the consequences. That is an amazing thing.
Sometimes I forget that my complaining could come off as insensitive, especially to those who would gladly take on these discomforts and more to be able to carry a child of their own. The reason it slips my mind isn’t because I don’t know how, for lack of a better term, blessed I am to be able to bear a child of my own. I am fully aware of how lucky I am. I forget that my grumblings could be negatively perceived because every single one of those little inconveniences, the aches and pains, they are all beautiful reminders of the beautiful miracle growing inside of me.
Every new pregnancy symptom that pops up along the way means that I’m one step closer to meeting my gorgeous little girl. That is something I never forget. At the same time, with all the changes I’m going through, physically and emotionally, I think I deserve to blow off a little steam. I can’t drink a glass of wine or take a dip in the hot tub, but damn it I can complain to anyone who’s willing to listen. Just because I grumble about my aching feet from time to time doesn’t mean I’m not beyond grateful for this pregnancy and what I’m gaining from it in the end. No matter how much I groan and moan about heartburn or constipation, I never forget how incredibly fortunate I am to be pregnant.