"How are you feeling" is a question I get asked all day every day. Every woman who's been through a pregnancy can relate. Trust me, I appreciate the attention and the concern from all of our friends and family. What surprises most people is the answer I respond with (and the fact that it's the truth). I feel good and excited and ready! While I am a good planner, I'm not a good "waiter" so the hardest part might just be this final stretch.
I don't know what these final few weeks or the labor process have in store for me, but I can tell you how thankful I've been for what I think was a fairly easy pregnancy. The Hamilton household has largely been marked by one happy mother-to-be and thus, one happy father-to-be. Not one known for her strong stomach (both as a child and in college - for quite different reasons), I anticipated terrible morning sickness. It was my mother, after all, who survived on little more than chicken broth when she was carrying me since she was so ill.
So Vic and I were not very surprised when I woke him up at about 12:01 am at the very start of Week 6 (when morning sickness is said to kick in) on my first of many visits to the bathroom. We'll spare you the intimate details except to say that I was getting ill every 15 minutes - including our whole drive home from Sparta. After the longest hour and a half in history, I hopped right into bed sending Vic out for what friends said helped them "peppermints, pressure bracelets, ginger ale, sour patch kids?!, saltines, etc." Worked like a charm to settle my stomach? Not exactly. Hours later, we found ourselves STILL in the waiting room at Bridgeport Hospital which is not the place where you want to spend lots of time in the bathroom - especially during what we had planned to be a relaxing night of watching the Final Four after several days in NJ. Convinced that this was the cruel start to my journey through morning sickness, I was not a happy camper. Two IV's and an anti-nausea shot later, I was starting to panic about just how I would get used to this, and Vic was likely wondering how he'd deal with me for the rest of the trimester.
The funny thing was, I woke up the next morning feeling TOTALLY FINE, and it's been that way through the pregnancy. Baby Hamilton was not testing my toughness, it was merely a 24 virus, and a happier mother-to-be there was not! So with that terrible ordeal officially restocked into the category of "funny story", I was ready to face everything else you read about in "What to Expect When You're Expecting" head on. I indulged in my Dairy Queen Blizzard and chocolate chip pancake cravings, but found they were soon replaced by a need for fruit and cereal which was fine by me. I was able to keep active - walking and using the eliptical at the gym - sweet. I perfected the art of sleepwalking to the bathroom throughout the night and even learned how to do it without waking Vic (at least until these last few weeks when the trips seem to be every single hour) - go me.
I started out one memorable day this summer as a panicked hypochondriac ("Vic, not to worry you, but I don't think I have felt the baby kick since we moved to the new house, and I'm walking in to the doctor's office RIGHT NOW") and ended it cool as a cucumber. As for the baby and his/her heartbeat that day - strong as could be said the fetal monitor. Just drink more water and take it easy from all the unpacking the doctor advised. Sore back? A bit - after all, there is a big belly that I'm carrying with me at all times these days. Swollen feet? Nada. And, maybe everyone is just being really nice, but I'm told that "I'm all belly" and that "from behind you can't even tell I'm pregnant" which is either a wonderful compliment or a lie that I'll take any day!
So Baby Hamilton, while we (ie: I) would have been prepared no matter what you threw my way, thank you for allowing me to enjoy every minute of this journey with you and for sparing me many of the symptoms that might have taken away from the happiness and excitement of it all. Once again, we just can't wait to meet you!
