Monday, September 20, 2010

Happy Pregnant People Are From Mars

The other day, I was talking to another mom about how many people we know that have been surrogates. I think being a surrogate is a wonderful, beautiful thing. Women who are willing to put themselves and their bodies through all that for someone else are doing such an incredible thing.

They are also off their freakin' rockers.

They must be.

Ok. That was (mostly) a joke, but I can tell you I won't be one of those glorious pregnant woman sitting on a lily pad somewhere worshiping their own round figure and loving every moment of being with child. No. No thank you. Not even for all the money in the world. Maybe, and I mean only maybe, if it was for my own sister and she needed it desperately, but even that would take some convincing.

I hated being pregnant. Hated it. Each time. It's like having the flu, with all the nausea, aches, and pains, and having your body invaded by an alien, at the same time. For those that have never been pregnant, if you saw Aliens, and how those things burst out of people's stomachs, it really isn't much different.

Being pregnant was actually one of the most horrible things I have gone through. It is painful, and I don't mean the delivery, which certainly is as well, but the pregnancy itself can be excruciating. With one of The Girls, my hips seemed to be spreading to wide, too quickly. So, picking up my legs more than an inch was so painful, it nearly made me cry. I couldn't even get into the bathtub each night without a break down. My back ached constantly. It hurt to stand for too long. It hurt to sit for too long. It just hurt. You get sudden, terrible pains in your va-jay-jay, and that isn't pretty. I haven't even started on the three months of constantly feeling like your going to vomit in the beginning.

No, it isn't fun. It isn't glorious. Not for me, anyway. It just stinks.

I'm not trying to say that I regret being pregnant, or having children. Not in the least. I love The Girls, and I am so thankful for them. That doesn't mean I had to love the process. No. It just means I've been there, done that, got the t-shirt, stretch marks, scars, and saggy boobs to prove it, and I don't need to do it again. Actually, I didn't even get a t-shirt, which was the best thing in that list. That, and I don't know what would happen to my boobs if I did it again. I can't imagine how much more damage could be done to them, and I don't want to think about it. That might give even me nightmares of walking around with flap jacks tied to my waist.

So, if you love being pregnant, consider yourself lucky.

I am not that lucky.

And, if you are a mom of a pre-teen or teenager, feel free to let them read this word for word, confirm for them everything I stated, then make it sound even worse with your own experiences. Hey, we moms need to stick together,and keep our own children from going through this for as long as possible.