I Can’t Get Over My Jealously Of Happy, Glowing Pregnant Women
I have always joked about how, deep down, every woman hates being pregnant. I have a few close friends who insist the opposite is true. These women, who really are great friends of mine, have described the experience as “wonderful” and a “pleasure” to share their body with their child.
I am not joking or being sarcastic in any way when I say that I am jealous of them. I had a so-so pregnancy experience. My health was great, so I am not trying to downplay how fortunate I was. I know plenty of other women who have had health issues that make their pregnancies a living hell.
Maybe I’m just impatient, but I felt like the entire process of pregnancy was way too long. I didn’t want to expectantly anticipate how my body was going to change and track the shape of my baby on BabyCenter. Yes, I enjoyed those little comparisons with my first kid, but by the time that I was pregnant again, Baby Lemon transforming into Baby Cantaloupe had lost its luster.
I never once felt privileged to share my body with another person. Truth be told, I felt slightly resentful mixed with a little bit of irritation. I didn’t like the fact that I had to eat vigilantly or else risk lightheadedness caused by low blood sugar. I was annoyed that my body had begun to slow me down; by the third trimester, I felt like glue was running through my veins.
A friend of mine on Facebook recently posted a bunch of candid photos of her and her giant pregnant belly in a one-piece bathing suit on the beach. This friend is sweet and sincere, and I love her to death. She looked absolutely beautiful, and even more importantly, she looked like she felt absolutely beautiful.
I was jealous of her. My pregnancies were just fine without any complications, but I always saw them as a means to an end. I was always counting down the days until I would give birth, and I was agitated when my first son was overdue (though it taught me a valuable lesson in the parenting patience that was to come).
I’m never going to be pregnant again, and I probably wouldn’t enjoy it much if I was. But every time I see a happy, glowing pregnant woman on Facebook who looks like she isn’t faking it, I can’t help but to feel a little jealous. I never enjoyed growing another human that much.