Worth it.

Pregnancy is on the brain. My sis delivered a beautiful baby girl on Monday and it seems that most of the blogs I follow are written by a gestating women. They write of growing larger (funny post!) and being anemic, exhausted, and overwhelmed (seriously, check out their blogs, you won't regret it); of dealing with pregnancy while doing the mom thing and all that it entails. Reading their well crafted pregnancy posts takes me back. It's been over six years since I experienced it, but I remember. I remember it all.

All women love to whine about their pregnancies share their pregnancy stories and I'm no different even though it's been awhile. So settle in, here's mine.

My first three were text book. The normal annoyances, that's all. But #'s four through six were a different story. None of it was life threathening, or even comparable to what many women have gone through, but it pushed me right to the limit.

I developed prenatal tachychardia which is a fancy way of saying that my heart raced. It didn't matter whether I was in great shape or not (and I did the pregnant thing both ways); simply walking across the family room sent my heart rate up to 140. And stairs? The doctor said if they were unavoidable, I was to do half the flight, sit down and rest for five minutes, and then continue on up. (Yeah, like a mom can do that!)

When my heart raced, which it did every time I did something really strenuous like move forward more than three steps, I was not only short of breath (similar to running five laps), but it also zapped all energy, on a molecular level from every cell in my body. The exhaustion was immediate and overwhelming. The doctor put me on some pills that helped (and put me through withdrawal when I quit taking them after delivery--which is another story, but can I just mention that a doctor should TELL you if that's a possibility). But the pills didn't fix the problem, just made it more manageable.

And so, a significant portion of my last three pregnancies were spent as a world class wimp. My husband says I have a can do attitude. When there are things to be done, I roll up my sleeves and git her done. But that 'me' was gone and the new me was something that was, in my opinion, just plain depressing. A shower took a fifteen minute rest to recover from. Blow drying my hair was just about impossible (something about raising my arms above my heart). I could do the grocery shopping if I walked slowly, but someone had better be there to put it all away when I got home. Every single thing I did was difficult and exhausting....for months.

My last pregnancy was the hardest. I was almost fourty. I had three teenagers, and they were a great help, but they were also very involved in things which means Mom is busy too. (Side note: Does anyone else just love that Elder Packer teaches that when you schedule the youth, you schedule their mom. Everyone should understand that!!)

Now, I love being a mom. There is no more sacred moment in life than when they place that baby in your arms. The innocence of children is one of the most beautiful things on the planet. Helping them grow into responsible adults is the hardest and most rewarding challenge there is. I know ALL that stuff, and believe it, deeply. And yet, as I slogged through the final months of that last pregnancy, I could not help wondering: Is it really worth THIS?? I felt guilty that I wondered, but I just couldn't help it.

I remember my feelings as they handed Girlie-Whirl to me in the Hospital. The pregnancy was OVER!!!!! Angels sang, bands played, fireworks, the whole sha-bang. As they put her in my arms, the feeling was instantaneous and overwhelming. It was, without a doubt, completely...worth...it.