Just look at my little "baby" on the sidebar. He or she is starting to look a bit scrunched. I can definitely tell that the real baby is growing too because I'm starting to actually feel pregnant. There's been aches and pains and I have noticed I can't quite move in ways I used to. Just picking Mr. Tickles up and then bending over to put him on his bed made my side hurt. Some kind of muscle pain. That means it's going to start getting harder to bend over to pick up toys, carry the laundry basket downstairs, mop the kitchen floor, shave my legs, sleep comfortably, etc. But, on a side note, it also means that this journey is getting further to the end and that's something I'll be glad about!
I love babies. Particularly my babies. ;) And I want lots of babies to fill my house. After one baby has grown into a toddler I like to replace him with another baby. Babies are so wonderful. They bring so much joy. They bring many inspirations and hope. They make you ponder the miracle of life and also how fragile life can be. They're so cuddly and warm and smell good. They're skin and hair are so soft. Best of all, they turn into bigger kids. And one day those kids will turn into adults. And hopefully I'll do a good enough job that they will be great adults and do something great in this world. Just with the three so far, it's been amazing to see how different they are. Sometimes I'll just sit back and watch them. Their different features, their different personalities, and yet they all came from me and Mike. But no matter how many children we have, they will all be different. That just blows my mind and I find myself pondering it often. It's so exciting to think about what this little baby will be like. The whole aspect of giving life is just something I can't seem to put into words. Nothing comes close to it. It makes me proud and thankful to be a woman. I love being a mother and can't think of anything else I'd rather do.
BUT-that being said,
I hate being pregnant.
Okay, hate is a pretty harsh word. Maybe I don't hate it, but I definitely don't care for it. I would much prefer having a stork drop the baby off on the front porch. Yes, it's amazing to feel the baby move and kick inside me. And it's amazing to give birth. It's also amazing to take care and nourish a baby for nine months and to actually fall in love with this person before even laying your eyes on him/her. But the morning sickness, the doctors visits, the big belly, the overall weight gain, the heartburn, the annoying pains here and there, the PAIN of giving birth, the recovery (which for me always involves an episiotomy)-Oh yes, I would much rather not have to go through these things ever again.
But like I said, I love babies. Particularly mine. And as soon as that newborn is placed in my arms for the first time, I forget everything that I went through. (Until the next pregnancy and then it all comes back to me) None of it matters. All that matters is that there is a baby in my arms. A baby that didn't exist until just nine months ago. A brand new person. It makes my little nine months of sacrifice seem like not even enough to be given this beautiful baby. How can you love someone so much already? Love at first sight maybe? But I think it's because of the sacrifices. The giving of yourself so that this person can live. Sacrifice is true love. Sacrifice is what motherhood is all about. But of course, with it comes love.