I've felt that there has been little interesting to say about my pregnancy in the last several weeks. In my first pregnancy, I'm pretty sure I never thought or felt that. It was so new! And strange! And painful! And exciting! And then as soon as I started writing for this blog, I tricked myself into thinking that reflections I had about pregnancy were more interesting than they actually were, just for the sake of having something to say.
But ever since
I found out, at 20 weeks, that the baby appears to be developing normally, I guess things have just seemed pretty normal. Normal aches and pains. Normal(ish) blood sugars (at least the
awkward overnight lows have been fewer and farther between). Normal doctor's appointments. Normal shortness-of-breath. Normal schedule, normal this, normal that.
Pregnancy was so shocking the first time I did it, partly because it was so HARD and PAINFUL! And I couldn't even take ibuprofen for the symptoms! And I was so TIRED all the time! And I couldn't even bend down to tie my own shoe! Sitting down in a chair practically knocked the wind out of me! And then I was chasing a couple toddlers, I was changing two sets of diapers, AND I was pregnant! A very good friend of mine, at that time, when I was pregnant with my third, asked me, "But...it gets easier, right?" And in some ways, that's true. For example, you get more efficient at clearing the breakfast table and getting everyone into the car. You know exactly when to check your blood sugar and what you need to have with you before you leave the house. But efficiency can only get you so far before the difficult tasks of daily living demand your attention once more (and sometimes, all at the same time). So what it really boils down to, and what I told her, is, "No, it doesn't get easier. You just get used to being tired and in pain."
This truth is one I have known intimately, for I have been living in the depths of pregnancy-, baby-, and toddler-induced fatigue and pain for 6 years. The minor aches and pains and irritations of pregnancy or nursing or parenting are just so ordinary and normal at this point. Perhaps that seems horrifying to you. It was to me, too, for a long time...except for the fact that it was my life and I still had to live it. And you know what? I just can't afford to be outraged about the horror of it all all the time. So I've given in, and stopped being mad about it. I've stopped feeling like I'm special, or that life is unfair, or that everyone should congratulate me all the time because I have diabetes and children. All the aches, pains, fatigue, and irritations are just par for the course now. The good news is I'm still alive, and those problems haven't caused my demise yet. Nothing terrible has happened, and in fact, very many good things (ages 26 weeks gestation, 1, 3, and 4) have happened! They are continuing to happen right before my very eyes.
So the most extraordinary thing I have experienced during this pregnancy has nothing to do with all the things that I normally write about, that is, the physical symptoms related to diabetes and pregnancy. The most extraordinary thing I've experienced these last few weeks is interior collection and peace. For all I know, being tired actually helps with that...not a lot of excess energy to be mad, complain, or try to change the world to AVOID ALL THE PAIN. All the fears and anxieties that have lived in me for so long, for so many pregnancies, are gradually fading away. I am not worried about labor, I am not worried about recovery, I am not worried about bringing a new baby home, I am not worried about high blood sugars, I am not worried about low blood sugars, I am not worried about whether my baby will be too big, and I am not even worried about having a c-section. My life is still full of aches and pains and irritations and exhaustion and minor failures but those don't seem so shocking or new or strange anymore.
Instead, all of the day-to-day pains and irritations are fading away before the extraordinary joy of being present and open to my children each and every day. What's so shocking, strange, new, and exciting now is all of the lovely things they see and do and notice and say. Like when my 4-year-old Pious One starts coming up with math problems in his head and solving them out loud, or when 3-year-old Braveheart courageously "makes a sacrifice" and decides to walk through the grocery store so that his two brothers can sit in the grocery cart, or the fact that two of my little Statesman's first words happened to be "brothers" and "excited." Or when the Pious One tells me, after much careful thought, that he is afraid of death in one way, but not in another. Or when Braveheart proudly declares that he will NOT wet his bed tomorrow night, or the next night, or ever! Or when the Statesman gently lays his head down on my shoulder, sucks his thumb, and gently says, "Mama."
I don't know. These things may not seem that extraordinary to you. I guess they didn't seem all that extraordinary or exciting to me a few months ago, either. A few months ago, I just couldn't wait for them to get to the next phase, or at least get to the point where they just wouldn't NEED me so much. I was so impatient and constantly felt like their needs were dragging me down and I JUST NEEDED TO GET AWAY and HAVE A NAP and SOMEONE GIVE ME AN IBUPROFEN AND TEACH MY KIDS HOW TO DO STUFF FOR THEMSELVES. I've had to make a conscious effort to slow down and work harder at the things that are important: caring for my achy body, being attentive to my diabetes, and addressing all the needs of my children that I possibly can. And then, I do my best not ti worry about all the things I can't do. Sometimes they cry and I can't be there for 10 more minutes. Sometimes I'm absurdly hungry and I just have to wait 15 more minutes until I can get a healthy meal prepared. Sometimes I'm so mad that they did that thing again that I've always told them not to do and this time, one of my mom's dishes is broken all over the kitchen floor and I have to clean it up right at this very moment when the oven timer is going off and oh by the way, my blood sugar is starting to get low. But I've decided I'm not mad at them or my life for requiring my attention anymore, and I'm not worried about all the things I'm not doing anymore. And now, all these anxieties, pains, and irritations truly pale in comparison to the amazing little things that I am seeing in my children's lives. And that has been so, so beautiful.
The only ache that really matters to me anymore is the ache in my heart that I feel for all the ways I've pushed my children away and resented their needs. I wish I could take back all the angry words and all the running away, all the times I rolled my eyes because they were crying again about wanting the same thing that I took away in the first place because they kept breaking it. I wish I could go back and open my heart to them in the past. I might still have had to say no, or left them crying for a long time, or taken away a toy, or done something else that made them upset; but at least I could have left my heart open and avoided treating them like they were the enemies of my happiness. Because they are definitely NOT the enemy of my happiness - they are the very substance of it! For that reason, I also burn with another kind of heartache: wanting to love them more and give them more. I still find there are a thousands of things I want to do for and with them, to teach them, and to say to them. There don't seem to be enough hours in a day. I'm not even sure there are enough moments in a lifetime for it all.
So in the last few weeks, this pregnancy has been very normal in all the ways that I usually write about: fatigue, bodily aches, joint pains, blood sugars, medical testing, etc. But it has been very extraordinary in ways that are more difficult to speak about. The aches are in the heart, and those aches have flowed from an abundant joy that I've experienced in the presence of the very people that pregnancy is all about. Caring for the child within is much easier in weeks like these, when I am able to catch a glimpse of all that's coming for him, and for us together, in the next few years!
