Archive for the ‘Pregnancy’ Category

15 weeks preggers


Well life has been on hold for several months now as my body has tried desperately to adjust to the demands of the little person growing inside my belly.  From the middle of January until the middle of March, most of the hours in my day were spent eating, sleeping, crying, and/or parenting my 5 year old and 2 year old from the spot on the couch where I was laying with my eyes half closed, trying not to vomit. Admittedly, not the most impressive two months I’ve ever had. As I told my husband about six weeks ago, “I would not make a very good chronically ill patient.” No, beauty and grace have not been my middle name.

It is humbling to know I am always a pregnancy away from completely falling apart.

But the last few weeks have been better. I am still deeply and utterly exhausted (When I say deeply and utterly, I mean it feels like there are tiny suction cups covering every inch of my skin, sucking every ounce of energy I have ever had out of every single cell in my body.) But I am down to more occasional bouts of nausea and my hormones have balanced out enough so that the fog of depression feels like it has lifted. (Both things for which I am extremely and constantly grateful.)

And since I have done little more than lie on the couch these past few months, my brain has been given more time than usual to think (a bit too much time, if you ask me), so I have many, many thoughts to share. With all of my pregnancies I have found myself in a state of restlessness, evolution, even discontentment. I don’t know if it is the hormones, the months of sickness or the sense of entrapment that comes with feeling like a victim of my own body, but pregnancy always gets me thinking, dreaming,  scheming of new ideas, new questions, new plans and ideals. Oh yes, I am often dreaming and scheming, pregnant or not. But that part of my brain seems to stay on hyper-drive when I am pregnant. Which has got to be the hormones…

So let’s see if I can get my “pregnancy brain” in gear, and get some of these thoughts down on paper (and by paper I mean 2echoEcho.wordpress.com) before I forget them just as I forget everything else I try to remember these days. (Which has been proven, really is the hormones.)


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“…and my breasts…they’re so…flat. All the fullness is gone. And I have this tummy that I can’t seem to get rid of. And I see the women that he sees on tv and on the internet and…I don’t know…I’m thinking I  need to just get a boob job. I mean, I know its expensive but ugh, what am I gonna do with these things?” my friend said, gesturing at her breasts before continuing her list of complaints about her post-baby body.

And as I stood in my living room, listening to the dissatisfaction and defeat in her voice, I found myself growing more and more agitated.

I listened quietly and patiently for a while, letting her vent, but the whole time thinking, “NO, NO, NO, this is all so…wrong! How can a woman so beautiful, a woman who has had the honor and privilege of creating the most magnificent gift possible – the gift of life – be in mourning!? What has the Darkness done to our culture, that mammas all across our country are dissatisfied with, frustrated by, even ashamed of the effects that creating life has had on their bodies? And when are we, daughters of the King, beloved of our Father and Creator, going to get angry enough at said Darkness…to fight back?”

I’m tired of the camp our culture has created- the camp that says a woman is less attractive if she has given birth, the camp that says she is more attractive if she has avoided pregnancy all together or at least been willing to sacrifice the money for and endure the pain and trauma of being cut up and artificially altered, the camp that says that when God created woman…He made a mistake.

I’m tired of that camp.

So I’m starting a new camp- a camp where pregnancy and birth are celebrated, a camp where women are admired for having the strength and selflessness that it takes to grow another human being inside of them, a camp where stretch marks are badges of honor, where squishier tummies are evidence of the beautiful life that grew inside of them, where the lack of fullness in ones breasts is the awesome reminder that those breasts nourished and comforted the sweet little life that depended on them.

Because I believe that becoming a mama is a gift- a beautiful gift from a perfect Father and Creator who adores us and created us in His image. And it is my deep desire, my great hope and my fervent prayer that all mammas will see that beauty in every glimpse of their reflection.

So though I stood there for a few more minutes, listening to my dear friend and all of her emotion, I finally spoke up, unable to stay quiet, unwilling to allow the lies of the Darkness to perpetuate in my living room, uninterested in spending one more day, watching one more mama spend one more moment in mourning.

Because I’m not going to be a part of that camp. Not this mama. Not that camp. Not anymore.

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