Just Grin and BarrettBlog
A blog beginning with my wedding journey all the way to my pregnancy journey with a little bit of life sprinkled in.
I am about to get vulnerable and slightly deep. I was at an all time low in the pregnancy. The morning sickness had reached it's peak. My stomach hurt. My head ached. I was beyond tired. I had thrown up multiple times. I was feeling what I imagine to be heartburn or something brewing in my lower chest. My appetite was pretty nonexistent. Week 10 was definitely the worst. I was feeling sorry for myself and having thoughts like If I can't even deal with being sick, how am I going to be a mom? There is so much worse happening in the world, and I am complaining about this. I feel so weak. How do other women do this? I can barely cope, and I don't even have to work. What's wrong with me? While those thoughts were milling around in the back of my head, something happened that began to change my perspective.
I have always been a big believer in the positive power of prayer. No, I do not think praying will stop bad things from happening. Bad things will still always happen. I do, though, believe prayer will change the way we view, perceive, and look at bad things. The more we pray, the more we can gain positive control of a situation rather than slipping into despair.
So there I was at the airport throwing the ultimate pity party for myself and silently weeping over how I could possibly endure any more weeks of feeling this way. The negative thinking was spinning out of control. That was until I sat down on a random seat in the airport and felt something underneath me. I pulled the object out from under me, and it was a rosary. I teared up, stuck the rosary in my purse, and began to pray and pray and pray until slowly my mind starting shifting. I would love to say that the sickness miraculous disappeared, but it didn't. In fact, it got slightly worse, for when I arrived home after the flight, I puked violently three times. But instead I received something better - the clarity that suffering is a part of life, and there is something meaningful at the end of it.
"What we suffer now is nothing compared to the glory He will reveal to us later." Romans 8:18
A brief review of products
Here are some of the things I tried to relieve the nausea.
The baby is the size of a Brussels sprout, which have grown on me more since I have moved down South. Just like a Brussels sprout, this baby has grown on me.
Dear Sprout and all children who are suffering,
God, our Father, we pray that you
will protect our children.
Keep them safe from harm and help
them to grow healthy in mind and body.
Give them enough strength to keep their faith in
You, and keep alive their joy in the
Birth of Jesus at Christmas time.
(St. Nicholas Patron of Children)
Welp, the throw up has come. Before now, it was just dry heaving and gagging. But during Week 9, not to get graphic, chunks came out. One time I made it to the toilet. The other time I.did.not. We were in California at this time on our unplanned babymoon, and we packed a lot of things into the day, so by the evening I was whimpering in bed by 9:00. However, I will admit, as tired and sluggish I am to get out of bed, getting out and doing some exercise really distracts me from the sickness and brightens my mood. I highly suggest getting outside for at least a little bit and moving your body. The days I felt the best were when we were hiking in Yosemite, bike riding through San Francisco and over the Golden Gate Bridge, and kayaking in McCovey's Cove. I am gearing up baby to be a runner much to probably James' chagrin. James claims cross country isn't a sport. Please send him hateful messages. So in conclusion, Baby did a bad thing by making me throw up, but baby is forgiven. I think I also have forgiven James. We had a lot of fun on our trip, and he was really caring during my down times.
My one true love. My loyal companion through thick and thin. Why have thy betrayed me? I am talking about water. Water has been my ride or die since day one. I drink little else besides it. I don't like any kind of soda. I don't like coffee. I rarely drink fruit juice. Just water. I crave it all the day. Until now. Pregnancy has completely changed its taste to me. I looked it up and it's a thing that other women have experienced. Some how hormones or whatever is brewing in my body has made me totally not like the taste of water and has made H20 not quench my thirst fully. I either want water ice cold or with mostly ice cubes or no water all together but instead those sugary drinks which I have long campaigned against. All I have to plead to water is, "Baby come back. Any kind of fool could see. There was something in everything about you. Baby come back, you can blame it all on me. I was wrong, and I just can't live without you."
The baby is the size of a kumquat tart. Like what the what? What on God's green earth is a kumquat tart? Sounds like a name kids call each other on the playground. Tina, you fat kumquat tart, eat your dinner. Your mom is a kumquat tart. Is that what you are doing? Ruining my life and freakin' making me look like a kumquat tart. Uhh yes those were Napoleon Dynamite quotes in which I just substituted words for kumquat tart. Try it. It's a really fun, waste of time activity to do while you are in bed with the Morning Sickness.
Dear Kumquat Tart,
I have only one week to milk this fun-sounding name as long as I can. Anywhoozers, I hope you enjoyed your first trip to California. We plan to take you to lots of places with baseball stadiums and National Parks in the future. Kids these days need to darn tootin' get out in nature more and get off there thingamabobs and whooseamawhatsits. I also apologize that we are going to hide Disney World for as long as we can from you, so you might be the only one in your class who has never been. Unpopular opinion alert, we think Disney World is overrated and expensive and much rather deny you any magical joy you can gain from your experience there and make you hike up steep inclines instead to see yet another waterfall. Also, prepare to rarely see the beach because well sand and you have to lug all those sand toys and chairs across the oasis of hot sand after you just spent 10 hours trying to find a parking space that is a mile away. We are only looking out for your best interests. That's a lie. We are 100% thinking about ourselves.
Your selfless mama
The tables have turned. The friend has now become the foe. My ally now my rival. My partner my assailant. I am sleeping with the enemy (quite literally because, well, figuratively isn't going so well with all the gagging in the evening). The baby is no longer the object of my anger. It's now directed at my husband. He did this to me. He must pay. The morning sickness has stepped up a notch, and it is naturally all of James' fault. He is either being overly supportive and asking me how I am doing way too much, or is isn't being supportive enough and not hugging me when I need him to or just letting me cry. I am not going to split hairs here and debate who is right, but it's me. I am right. Duhh. Figure me out, James! I dare you.
By now in this point of pregnancy I have had some oddly specific, vivid dreams. I have killed the baby at least three times. By now, I am like Wake up, stupid baby. I know you are not dead. I literally see you breathing. Quit trying to scare me. In one dream, I put the baby down in his crib, turned my head for a second, and then the next thing you know heaps of blankets are piling on top of my baby. Not thin blankets but heavy ass ones, smothering him. In another one, my baby started choking on air. No one could figure out how to do the Heimlich Maneuver, and he was being passed around from person to person except to me who was screaming that I knew how to do it. Eventually, he got passed to a gym teacher, and next thing I know the baby is dead.
So if you are having these kinds of dreams, they are totally natural. It's normal to have fears and anxieties about your pregnancy and if your baby is healthy and what kind of mom you will be and will your son or daughter love you. It's important to remember that you are not alone and not crazy. It's totally okay if you cry out of no where. It's 2018 no longer should women be expected to suck it up and act as if everything is fine 24/7. Hopefully, you have a husband or partner who is there for you because, baby, you need his lovin'.
Oh well I do declare that the baby is now the size of a southern pecan. Y'all my little darling is just growing up so fast. Bless his/her heart, he/she will be here before I know it. Y'all come back next week for more updates.
Dear my new ally,
It's you and me pal. Daddy is actually a really nice guy and will be a great father to you. He's really excited to meet you. He asks how you are doing every day. Sometimes, Daddy doesn't know what to do when people cry. He's not used to that, but I am sure you are going to melt his heart and make him softer. Thanks, Kid. Mommy owes you.
Your partner in crime
The weekend of the 7th week, I rebounded. I spent two glorious, sick-free days at a friend's lake house, riding waves and catching rays. I was feeling on top of the world again. That is until I returned from the lake and the sickness reared its ugly face again. However, my nausea was masked because I had my first ultrasound which subsequently led to us starting to announce the news to friends and family!
My first ultrasound was with my PCP who is also a gynecologist and a former obstetrician. I walked into the appointment, and the first thing she asked was where my husband was. Oops. I didn't realize I was supposed to bring him to a procedure where he had to watch something else besides his own dingaling get shoved up my vagina. But I did feel a little bad because this was, after all, his child too. I will admit it was pretty cool, awesome, surreal, and all those other overused adjectives to watch my future child, no matter how small, appear on a screen and hear the heartbeat, learning that everything was proceeding along nicely. The baby was so far healthy and my uterus looked in excellent shape. Score! I filmed it for James too, don't worry.
We spent the week telling people the good news. We were overwhelmed by the amount of love and support that we and this child have. That is always a relief to know that we are not in this alone, and we have plenty of role models who have gone before us.
My mom got me a pregnancy journal to track milestones, thoughts, feelings, and the growing baby. I highly recommend Bump for Joy if you are into journaling and adding pictures. If you aren't into writing and detailing every single thing then I recommend something a little less wordy.
Boy or Girl?
So far we have the majority of guesses being girl, including my doctor, James, and a dream James' dad had a few weeks ago. I, on the other hand, imagine a boy whenever I picture holding, cuddling, or rocking him/her. We shall see. Thankfully, we already have names picked out for both a girl and boy with my mom being on board which sometimes is a hard feat to accomplish. If the baby is a girl - Charlotte "Charley" Marie Barrett. If the baby is a boy - Jasper "Jack" Harrison Barrett named after both of our grandfathers or Jon Harrison Barrett. We, meaning I, also have already decided on a nursery scheme after I had a slight freakout after browsing Babies R Us to check out their going out of business sales. There, I learned how much I don't know what is needed exactly for a baby, so I did what any sane and rational person would do. I promptly went home and started two registries and started researching EVERYTHING we would need. Hey, ladies, it happens. When unsure blame it on the pregnancy. So anyway we (I) decided on a neutral gray and white bear themed nursery in keeping in line with our surname-Barrett (Bear-it). Having decided all of that has got me excited! But on another note, I am also oddly deeply emotional that my child(ren) will never experience the joy of Toys R US. RIP.
The baby is the size of wild strawberry and is moving around like crazy (I can't feel it yet). This baby sounds like a party animal which won't coincide with my lame lifestyle.
Dear Wild one,
Hey I heard you were a wild one. If I took you home, it would be a home run. Show me how you do. A little Flo Rida for you. Can't wait to teach you all about the lyrical genius that is Flo Rida. Anyway, I heard your heartbeat this past week, and I must say that it was pretty cool and made me all the more excited to meet you. I, in return, want to apologize for my behavior in the previous weeks. I said some not nice things. At one point, I threatened you. There was even that awkward moment when I envisioned eating you because you were the size of a blueberry, and I love blueberries. I hope we can move passed it and never speak of it again. Love you, kid.