When I first contemplated the idea of getting pregnant again, I vehemently swore that I would try to enjoy pregnancy as much as I could if I did. And I really wish I was.
The truth is, pregnancies are hard for me. I don’t walk around looking like I’ve just got a little tiny pillow wrapped around my waist. My skin doesn’t quite behave. And I suffer from a slew of unseen symptoms that make it hard to say, “I love being pregnant!”
Now before I start sounding extremely ungrateful for the gift of life that’s growing inside me, let me just say that as much as I feel shit, I do wake up every day thanking God for this blessing. I know all this is for a greater cause and each time I feel poo, I remind myself that it’s because someone’s life is blossoming in my belly. So the sicker I feel, the better someone else is. I know it’s a silly theory, but it’s the only way I know how to get through it. The flip side is that on the rare occasion that I feel normal, I worry about baby.
When I was expecting Nae, I was constantly seasick for the first 3 months. I was forever green. But although the world swayed around me, I never threw up, which was a lucky thing. I mostly felt like I had a coin in my mouth, and my sense of smell was out of control the whole time. I was also mostly exhausted.
This pregnancy, I’ve had varying bouts of nausea which have led to Merlion moments in the loo. But aside from this and exhaustion, I’ve also started had migraines which last for days. These have been especially hard especially when trying to deal with a toddler and work. I’ve also picked up a virus from Nae, and it hasn’t helped that my asthma has acted up. So I feel like I’m having a tougher time in general, and that I’m constantly whinging all the time.
But Nae has been great about it. In the picture above, she’s trying to get to some toys in the corner of a 24-hour clinic whilst Mummy waits to be seen by the doctor.
I’ve broken down several times from sheer desperation during the migraines, and she’s come up to me and pat me on the face: “Tears, tears!” She would say. “Sad, sad,” before planting kisses on my cheek to make me feel better.
How on earth did she learn how to do that???