{"id":132,"date":"2011-03-07T18:19:00","date_gmt":"2011-03-07T18:19:00","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/www.patheos.com\/blogs\/permissiontolive\/2011\/03\/im-pregnant-and-thats-ok\/"},"modified":"2011-03-07T18:19:00","modified_gmt":"2011-03-07T18:19:00","slug":"im-pregnant-and-thats-ok","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/www.patheos.com\/blogs\/permissiontolive\/2011\/03\/im-pregnant-and-thats-ok.html","title":{"rendered":"I&#8217;m Pregnant, and that&#8217;s OK"},"content":{"rendered":"<!DOCTYPE html PUBLIC \"-\/\/W3C\/\/DTD HTML 4.0 Transitional\/\/EN\" \"http:\/\/www.w3.org\/TR\/REC-html40\/loose.dtd\">\n<html><head><meta http-equiv=\"content-type\" content=\"text\/html; charset=utf-8\"><meta http-equiv=\"content-type\" content=\"text\/html; charset=utf-8\"><\/head><body><p><\/p>\n<div class=\"separator\" style=\"clear: both;text-align: center\"><a href=\"https:\/\/lh3.googleusercontent.com\/-3w0rZRL1YXc\/TXVyC4IKx3I\/AAAAAAAAAsA\/jgm3nUTmNGk\/s1600\/pregnant-woman-silhouette-md.png\" class=\" decorated-link\" target=\"_blank\" rel=\"nofollow\"><img decoding=\"async\" border=\"0\" src=\"https:\/\/lh3.googleusercontent.com\/-3w0rZRL1YXc\/TXVyC4IKx3I\/AAAAAAAAAsA\/jgm3nUTmNGk\/s1600\/pregnant-woman-silhouette-md.png\"><\/a><\/div>\n<p><span style=\"font-size: large\">Lately, almost every day<\/span> I reach a point in the evening where I throw up my hands and wail in despair <em>\u201cI don\u2019t know what\u2019s wrong with me!\u201d<\/em> To which my husband replies \u201c<em>I do<\/em>\u201d, and points to my round protruding belly.<\/p>\n<p>Now that might sound like he\u2019s being mean, but really he\u2019s not. My poor husband has been trying to convince me for months of the obvious fact that I am pregnant. More than that really, he\u2019s been trying to convince me that <em>it\u2019s OK to be pregnant<\/em>.<\/p>\n<p><span style=\"font-size: large\">You see<\/span>, I hate being limited. I refuse to admit it when I\u2019m on the verge of passing out after church on Sunday, and even when my husband suggests that I go take a nap while he watches the kids, I feel guilty for \u201cwasting time\u201d napping. I feel guilty all the way up the stairs to my room until I pass out for 2 hours straight and wake up thinking \u201c<em>wow, I guess I really did need that nap<\/em>.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>My hips ache, so it\u2019s not as easy to pick up the toys off the floor, but wouldn\u2019t I be a failure if I left them there? So I crawl around trying to collect all the toys, and I find myself shouting directions to my kids from the couch, and getting frustrated when we can\u2019t achieve everything I wanted to get done. <\/p>\n<p>Instead of being OK with some extra toys on the floor, or realizing that some of my parenting will change as I get closer to my due date and eventually have a newborn baby that I am looking after, I get fed up with myself. All the little things I am \u201cfailing\u201d to keep up with through each day add up to\u00a0frustration, which in turn\u00a0makes me more impatient as a parent. My perfectionism kicks in again, and nothing I do is good enough.<\/p>\n<p>And in my mind it\u2019s all because I am pregnant!<\/p>\n<p><\/p>\n<div style=\"text-align: center\">********************************<\/div>\n<p><span style=\"font-size: large\">This is the first pregnancy<\/span> that I\u2019ve allowed myself to face the fact that for me, <em>pregnancy triggers shame.<\/em><\/p>\n<p>It took some time for me to be OK with my body during pregnancy, but (other than a few insecurities here and there) I\u2019ve been doing better with body image. I\u2019ve learned to embrace how my body can carry and provide for the little life inside, <a href=\"http:\/\/ayoungmomsmusings.blogspot.com\/2009\/11\/i-bear-scars-of-christ.html\" class=\" decorated-link\" target=\"_blank\" rel=\"nofollow\">even if that means weight gain and stretch marks<\/a>.<\/p>\n<p><em>However, I am still battling negative self-image in other ways. <\/em><\/p>\n<p><span style=\"font-size: large\">Instead of embracing<\/span> what my body can do in this stage of pregnancy, I resent every little ache and pain because it slows me down. If I take the rest I need and try to relax about my to-do list, I hear the <a href=\"http:\/\/ayoungmomsmusings.blogspot.com\/2010\/12\/gender-roles-and-shame.html\" class=\" decorated-link\" target=\"_blank\" rel=\"nofollow\">old tapes playing in my head, telling me that I am lazy and selfish<\/a>. But when I push myself to try to keep up with what I am capable of when I\u2019m not pregnant, I end up paying for it later when I am aching and contracting on the couch.<\/p>\n<p>For some reason, being pregnant brings back old insecurities. I remember my mom being pregnant, exhausted and emotional, always after us kids for all the work we were making. <a href=\"http:\/\/ayoungmomsmusings.blogspot.com\/2011\/01\/motherhood-after-growing-up-quiverfull_12.html\" class=\" decorated-link\" target=\"_blank\" rel=\"nofollow\">I remember running the house<\/a> while she tried to sleep or was confined to bed with infections or back pain. I was never quite able to do it all correctly, I was always behind, <a href=\"http:\/\/ayoungmomsmusings.blogspot.com\/2010\/08\/never-good-enough.html\" class=\" decorated-link\" target=\"_blank\" rel=\"nofollow\">it was never good enough<\/a>. I always told myself that I would not do that to my kids, and most of the time I am confident that I am not my mother. But when my body lets me down, all the old fears of letting my kids down despite my best efforts come rushing back.<\/p>\n<p>So I fight it. <a href=\"http:\/\/ayoungmomsmusings.blogspot.com\/2010\/10\/mamas-health-basics.html\" class=\" decorated-link\" target=\"_blank\" rel=\"nofollow\">I try to fix the old messages by falling into the old patterns<\/a>.<\/p>\n<p><em>And it never works. It just ends with me wailing \u201cwhat is wrong with me?\u201d<\/em><\/p>\n<p><span style=\"font-size: large\">Whether I want to admit it or not<\/span>, I am 7 months pregnant. It takes effort to get off the couch, and even more to get off of the floor. Sometimes I have to change my outfit 3 times before I find a shirt that still covers my belly. I can\u2019t lie on the floor and wrestle with my kids anymore. Sometimes I can\u2019t get comfortable at night (despite my 3 pillows) and sometimes I can\u2019t keep my eyes open during the day. <\/p>\n<div style=\"border-bottom: medium none;border-left: medium none;border-right: medium none;border-top: medium none\"><a href=\"https:\/\/lh6.googleusercontent.com\/-oOy8_0PzGjo\/TXVzQ8v56-I\/AAAAAAAAAsM\/YeN8pKdrsE4\/s1600\/Untitled.png\" class=\" decorated-link\" target=\"_blank\" rel=\"nofollow\"><img loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" border=\"0\" height=\"299\" src=\"https:\/\/lh6.googleusercontent.com\/-oOy8_0PzGjo\/TXVzQ8v56-I\/AAAAAAAAAsM\/YeN8pKdrsE4\/s320\/Untitled.png\" width=\"320\"><\/a>But being pregnant <u>does not<\/u> mean that I am limited in compassion or empathy. Pregnancy <u>does not<\/u> mean that I can\u2019t tickle my kids, give them lots of hugs, and read books together. Having to rest on the couch <u>does not<\/u> mean that I can\u2019t smile and encourage my kids, it <u>does not<\/u> mean that I can\u2019t be a content person. Pregnancy <u>does not<\/u> mean that I am not an involved, loving parent.<\/div>\n<p><em>I may be more limited in my physical abilities that I would like<\/em>, <em>but being pregnant <u>does not<\/u> mean I am a different person, a worse mommy, or an undesirable spouse.<\/em><\/p>\n<p><a href=\"http:\/\/ayoungmomsmusings.blogspot.com\/2010\/10\/mama-health-daily.html\" class=\" decorated-link\" target=\"_blank\" rel=\"nofollow\">I can remember to accept my limitations and appreciate what I\u00a0CAN do.<\/a><br><em><br><\/em><br><span style=\"font-size: large\">I\u2019m pregnant, and that\u2019s OK.<\/span><\/p>\n<\/body><\/html>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"<p>Lately, almost every day I reach a point in the evening where I throw up my hands and wail in despair \u201cI don\u2019t know what\u2019s wrong with me!\u201d To which my husband replies \u201cI do\u201d, and points to my round protruding belly. Now that might sound like he\u2019s being mean, but really he\u2019s not. My [&hellip;]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1145,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[1],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-132","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-uncategorized"],"yoast_head":"<!-- This site is optimized with the Yoast SEO plugin v21.1 - https:\/\/yoast.com\/wordpress\/plugins\/seo\/ -->\n<title>I&#039;m Pregnant, and that&#039;s OK<\/title>\n<meta name=\"description\" content=\"Lately, almost every day I reach a point in the evening where I throw up my hands and wail in despair \u201cI don\u2019t know what\u2019s wrong with me!\u201d To which my\" \/>\n<meta name=\"robots\" content=\"index, follow, max-snippet:-1, max-image-preview:large, max-video-preview:-1\" \/>\n<link rel=\"canonical\" href=\"https:\/\/www.patheos.com\/blogs\/permissiontolive\/2011\/03\/im-pregnant-and-thats-ok.html\" \/>\n<meta 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