Wednesday, January 30, 2019

Tangerines on the Nightstand



I am brand new at this mom thing. Brand new, meaning my little one is still tucked safely away inside of my tummy. And while I know I still have so much to learn about motherhood, I feel like my pregnancy journey is already christening me into the unpredictable, beautiful chaos of being a Mom.

I have pregnancy alter-egos. I swear my body wakes up a different person everyday and I never know what type of day it is going to be.

 My alter-ego #1 is energized and wonderstruck, ordering over-stuffed chipotle burritos and java chip frappuccinos. When I wake up in this world, I feel beautiful and dazzled to be pregnant. Give me all of the tutu onesies and cute maternity tops that tie above my belly. I'm doing all of the prenatal yoga, I'm organizing everything, and I'm making smoothies with spinach for breakfast (Who even am I?) I'm reading pregnancy books and journaling and doing so many productive things. I can't be stopped. I'm on top of the world, I'm starving, and I'm crying tears of joy.

My alter ego #2 wakes up in a parallel universe; a universe in which I can't even hold down the tangerine I left on my nightstand. All food sounds repulsive, all movement feels like I'm doing acrobatics on a boat after I ate too many nachos (I'm barfing at the thought!). On those days I can barely get out of bed without throwing up, much less plan my next plate that should be brimming over with all the colors of the rainbow. The thought of prenatal yoga makes my stomach churn. That chipotle burrito? Don't even mention burritos. In fact, don't ever bring up Chipotle again. I am not mentally or physically prepared for beans and guac. Not now; not ever. All I can do to make it through the day is lay down, maybe sipping some lime water (I said maybe), and groan as I watch 7th Heaven reruns. I'm either throwing up all day (or on the verge of it every second) and rolling my eyes at one more suggestion I get saying I should "try some saltine crackers." I have eaten probably five boxes of saltine crackers since being pregnant and they have not done a single thing for my nausea. They aren't going to become a miracle cracker for me anytime soon.

I feel like I am living out two completely different pregnancy experiences rolled into one. It is almost like clockwork at this point. I'll have a day that is nothing but the green, sick emoji on repeat and then without fail I'll wake up the next morning and be living in my alter ego #1 world, skipping around and wanting chocolate covered strawberries. The only thing that gets me through the indescribably queasy days is knowing that more than likely a breathtaking day will follow.

I don't know whether to laugh or cry at the fact that my days range from tangerines making me throw up to being able to down a whole Chipotle burrito on other days, but the contrast seems to be a lot like what I hear motherhood is like: dazzling and out-of-this-world on some days and exhausting and mind-numbing on others. But whether it's a dream day out of a magazine or a scene out of a horror movie, every day is so worth it. There is light following the darkness. New hope will come after the disastrous mess the day before and I am sure that is a constant encouragement in all stages of motherhood.

Thank you, little one, for preparing me for the roller coaster of motherhood that is to come. I am honored and blessed to carry you everyday and I would do this pregnancy alter-ego thing for you ten times over. Everyone says it will subside soon and maybe it will; but maybe it won't and I'm ready for anything.

I'll keep putting tangerines on the nightstand and anxiously await whether or not I'll throw them up in the morning.