Category: Marriage & The Hubby

When I was pregnant with Zach I read a lot of magazines and books about pregnancy and having children.  They all told me about how the pregnancy would change my body.  I knew that it would sag a little more in some areas due to loss of muscle tone.  I knew that I would likely be left with a little more tummy than I had before.  I knew that after breastfeeding my boobs would never have the same perkiness that they had before.  All you have to do is take a quick look at The Shape Of A Mother to see the effects of carrying a child.  I was armed with this knowledge long before I ever had to deal with the reality of it.  I was okay with this because having a child was more important to me than having a perfectly toned body.  Plus, I never really had a perfectly toned body to begin with so it really wouldn’t make that much difference anyway.

What I didn’t expect was how sacred my body would actually become to me after I gave birth.  I didn’t expect to feel the way I feel about my body now.  Sure I could stand to lose some more weight and tone up a bit, but those things are insignificant.  After carrying my baby in my stomach for 40 weeks, it became something much more meaningful to me.  After feeding my child with my breasts for nine months, they became much more than the sexual organ that most men make them into.  My body is amazing.  I love my body and every little reminder of the time that I carried and fed my child with it.

I have a hard time finding the right words to express it, but there is a new level of intimacy attached to my stomach and my breasts than there ever was before.  Allowing my husband to touch my bare stomach now is a completely different experience.  It isn’t because of the extra flab, but because it carries emotion with it.  That stomach is where my baby lived for the first 40 weeks (and 4 days, but who’s counting?) of his existence.  It is where my body nurtured and formed him into what he is today.

For some reason I have a really hard time sharing that part of myself with anyone now, including my husband.  I have been struggling with this for quite a while and could never really figure out what had changed.  I didn’t understand why my flabby stomach had become to sensitive when touched by him.  I didn’t understand why I always tense up when he puts a hand under my shirt.  A simple touch, something that should be part of a normal intimate relationship, has been pushing me away from him and I couldn’t figure out why.

I still don’t understand it all, but I think I have gained at least a little bit of insight.  I want to find a way to discuss this with Hubby.  Perhaps it will bridge yet another gap that has formed between us.  I think much of this is a psychological problem on my part.  My body, to me, has become a place to nurture a child rather than a place used purely for my husband’s (or my) enjoyment.  I could go on and on about this but that would bring me to issues that I’m not willing to discuss here.

I realize this is all a little jumbled and maybe vague, but I just needed to get these thoughts out.

Thanks to Not-so-Pregnant in Texas for the post that prompted these thoughts.  I would be very interested to hear from other moms that have had similar thoughts/feelings or even those that have not.

I am so hungry today.  I’ve already eaten my Special K bar and a banana and I’m trying to hold off until lunchtime but I’m just really freakin’ hungry.  I guess it’s a good thing that we’re going to go eat a yummy lunch at this little bar and grill place down the street instead of my regular Lean Cuisine meal.

Zach was a crabby little guy this morning.  Well, not really crabby as much as clingy.  He didn’t want to let go of me when I dropped him off at day care.  He was crying when I walked out the door.  I really hate that.  I’m guessing that it was due mostly to the fact that he didn’t sleep well lastnight.  He was awake at 1:00 screaming, so I let him come to bed and snuggle with me the rest of the night.  Then, he decided to wake up at 6:00.  I finally put him back in his bed so I could snooze for a few more minutes.  When I went in to wake him up at 7:30 he was out cold.  I felt so bad for making him wake up when he clearly needed more sleep.

When Zach woke me up at 6:00, I was writing a great blog entry in my head.  It had something to do with my love for him, but I can’t for the life of me remember it.  I don’t know why I was thinking about how much I loved him when he woke me up at 6:00 in the freakin’ morning.  Perhaps it was because I really enjoyed snuggling with him all night.  Sometimes I do miss the co-sleeping.

Hubby went to the doctor on Tuesday.  They put him back on the meds he was taking before.  I know it will probably take a few weeks to really kick in, but I’m hoping that this will help us to be able to work on the tension between us a little easier.  It is amazing how different he has been the last few days.  Things have been very, very good.  It gives me a lot of hope about the future.

I have been feeling a little "off" lately.  I can’t pinpoint anything other than the fact that I’m not sleeeping well.  I’m pretty sure that has everything to do with the high stress around my house lately.  That seems to be how my body usually reacts to stress.  I’ve been having headaches pretty much every day which is probably a combination of the not sleeping, stress, and my insane allergies.  I’m super hungry, but then when I eat, I don’t feel so good.  And no, I’m definitely not pregnant.  I’m just hoping that there’s nothing else major going on and that this will soon pass.

Since I found out that my sister is pregnant on Saturday, I’ve been telling everyone I know about it.  Babies are a big deal in our family and we are all very excited about this new little one.  Even though it will be her third, to me it is just as exciting as the first.  I’ve shared with all of my friends, posted it on 2 of my 3 blogs, told everyone at work, and still I can’t quit talking about it.

The only problem with talking about her pregnancy is that I keep getting the question.  Everyone wants to know when I’m going to have another one.  My standard reply is “when it happens”.  The next question is, “So, are you trying?”  To this I reply with “We’re not trying to not get pregnant.”  The complicated part of this that I prefer not to get into is that making babies does not come easy for us.

It took over 2 1/2 years of trying to get pregnant with Zach.  After the first year, we started the testing.  We paid a lot of money to find out that there were slight problems with both of our reproductive parts.  Fortunately, it was nothing very serious and we were eventually able to concieve.  I have a condition called Polycycstic Ovarian Syndrome (PCOS), which although it makes it more difficult to get pregnant, does not make it impossible.  The doc put me on some medicine that was supposed to help keep this under control.  Hubby made a few lifestyle changes (along with removing some major stressors in his life) and eventually I got knocked up. 

Somewhere in the middle of all that I went through a pretty good spout of depression and trying to deal with the fact that there was a chance I would never have the family I so desperately wanted.  Because of that, I really hate to tell people that we are “trying”.  If I actually admit that we’re trying to get pregnant then I have to deal with all of the follow-up questions from everybody and quite frankly, I just don’t want to deal with it.  I don’t want to listen to anyone’s suggestions or advice.  I don’t want to have to answer when someone asks me how long we’ve been trying.  The whole thing just ends up with me being more depressed about the whole thing in the end and doesn’t help my cause. 

I really hate to even write about this because there are so many couples out there dealing with major infertility issues and here I am complaining because it might take me a while to get pregnant.  Wah.  Poor me.  I read the blogs of women who are struggling with conception and miscarriages and IVF cycles and I think, “wow, I’m so lucky”.  Yet here I sit complaining because I can’t get pregnant when I want to.

I have one amazing child at home.  He is what makes every day worth living.  Sometimes I like to think that I would be okay with just having him.  But, deep down in my heart, I know that I won’t.  I need another child to complete my family.  I need another child to complete me.  I have more love to give.

So, yeah, we’re trying.