The belly is starting to look pretty official these days; it seemed like it happened overnight! You may want to pass on this post… or maybe not… I know it doesn’t have much to do with the usual content here, but regardless, I wanted to take a few moments to reflect on these past twenty weeks and show a little side profile action.
Stop comparing. Comparison during pregnancy, and I am guessing as a mother, is my worst enemy. Is my belly too big compared to others at this stage? Is her down dog or triangle pose better than mine? Ugh. It’s so easy to fall into, and I have to remind myself, my body is mine, not hers or hers or hers. It is doing what it is supposed to do; what it was created to do… and it is a beautiful thing regardless of whether I am feeling “beautiful” at that moment.
Be present. During my first trimester—nauseous all the time, throwing up daily—I couldn’t help but get downtrodden. For months… years before I was praying to get pregnant. I actually prayed after my miscarriage that “the next time I’m pregnant, I want to be really sick, so it is clear that my body and hormones are working correctly.” Oh, how He has a sense of humor! Now that I am feeling a bit better, I can start to appreciate the little moments… both good and bad. I am so thankful to be pregnant. And so thankful that so far Mini Stets looks to be a healthy little nugget. (Although, at this stage, he is looking mostly like a Skeletor/alien in ultrasounds!)
Everyone is willing to share—and is very opinionated. About what gender the baby will be. About the names we are considering. About the best solutions for morning sickness. About their favorite stroller. On natural vs. epidural vs. cesarean section childbirth. Sheesh! As overwhelming as many of the conversations can be, I am so appreciative of them. As a first-timer, I am in the dark on many of these issues and these discussions show me that there are so many options—so many different “right” ways of doing things. I value the education.
Nesting is for real. I guess I never really thought the “nesting” stage was real… or just never paid close enough attention to notice it in friends’ pregnancies, but wow, ya, I’m nesting. Big time. Our apartment is turned upside down at the moment—projects in every room. The office is unusable as I break it down to become the nursery. My husband is calling me the Thompson Tornado. It’s got to get worse before it gets better, right?!
Stop worrying. Without going into too much detail, the first few months were rough. The doctors prepared us for another miscarriage, but Mini Stets wouldn’t have it. He’s a fighter. With the previous miscarriage behind us, and some red flags for this pregnancy, it was so easy to let my worrying mind take over. What I could control, I was/am. Prenatal vitamins. Check. Getting enough sleep. Check. Eating small portions regularly and often. Check. However, any sign of cramping or an unusual symptom, all trust went out the window. I kept coming back to a well-known scripture, that reminded me that Mini Stets was being made just as he should… and knowing, I’ll love him no matter what!
For you formed my inward parts; you knitted me together in my mother’s womb. I praise you, for I am fearfully and wonderfully made. Wonderful are your works; my soul knows it very well. My frame was not hidden from you, when I was being made in secret, intricately woven in the depths of the earth. Your eyes saw my unformed substance; in your book were written, every one of them, the days that were formed for me, when as yet there was none of them.
– Psalm 139:13-16
Double exposure photograph by MStetson Design/Lindsay Stetson Thompson.