I have been pregnant ten times (six healthy deliveries, hopefully awaiting the seventh). I have delivered both naturally and by c-section. A great many things about pregnancy are difficult and painful. But with most of the difficulties and pains, I find I am able to kind of detach myself, or, at least, feel the pain but also feel all the other things that are good, and be able to have the bad with the good and focus on the good instead of the bad. But there is one pain I find it almost impossible to rise above: morning sickness.
As many women will attest, morning sickness is not just a morning thing. And it can vary greatly in its severity. Some women feel a bit of nausea triggered by certain smells. Some women feel nothing at all. Some women are plagued with symptoms of a stomach virus or food poisoning 24/7 for months. Some women are hospitalized because they can’t keep anything down. Thankfully, I do not have to be hospitalized. But I feel bad, pretty much non-stop, for a long time. And no matter how many times I go through it, it always feels terrible.
I have learned some survival tricks along the way, for sure. Protein is incredibly important. Once you’ve gone too long without protein you’re in big trouble. Same with hydration— which is difficult because plain water makes nausea worse— but there are easier liquids than plain water: protein shakes, extremely cold water, very cold milk. Carbs settle initially, but are only a quick fix in the moment. When you’re past the point of no return, there’s no going back: get to the bathroom. If you feel like you’re about to fall asleep, do everything you can to lay down. Exhaustion (which is common in the first trimester, and feels almost drug-induced) always makes nausea way worse. But don’t sleep too long! Or you’ll feel terrible when you wake up. Exercise can help, but it can also hurt so you have to do it at the right time. Anything with any significant taste, spice, and flavor is probably a bad idea, even if it feels like a good idea for a moment. Don’t eat a normal meal. Only eat snacks every hour or so. Get yourself somewhat functional before you sit down to cook for or feed other people. Ginger and peppermint may take the edge off at first, but if you’ve been pregnant a few times you’ll find those smells only remind you more of nausea and the association makes everything worse. (On the other hand, I’ve never grown to hate toast, despite it being the backbone of my diet many times.) Don’t worry too much about nutrition— your pre-pregnancy diet and the diet you’ll have later on makes a difference for the baby— just try not to eat things that are super unhealthy. Don’t worry about anything, really. Or try not to. When I have morning sickness, I go back to the basics. Homeschooling, new projects, everything else gets put on hold or drastically reduced. Don’t think about a week from now (maybe don’t even think about tonight’s dinner)— it will feel insurmountable. But DO think about six months from now. It will give you strength for the moment. Go to bed very early. Do little things you find enjoyment in. It does end. But when it’s happening, it feels like a prison. And it can feel impossible to get through.
So why keep doing it?
The obvious answer would be that you get to hold a baby in the end. Although, that is not always true. I have had three miscarriages. Of course, I’ve also had six beautiful, healthy babies, so I know I am very blessed! But I also always know that holding a baby at the end is not a guarantee.
What is a guarantee, however, is that there is a baby. Morning sickness means that a new life exists. If you believe that this is true— if you believe that pregnancy means a new person with a soul that will live on through all eternity— a new member of your family who will change and affect you and your family forever— then morning sickness is a blip on the radar screen.
It certainly doesn’t feel like that. But if you have the knowledge that it is that, then you can endure it. As Viktor Frankl said, when we have a “why to live, we can bear with almost any how.” Some people do not believe that each new pregnancy indicates a new eternal soul. If I didn’t believe that, I’m not sure I would have done this so many times. But I do believe that. And that changes everything.
I also believe something else. I believe that suffering can be redemptive. (I am not sure how I would answer the Problem of Pain, or begin to accept or endure it, if I did not believe that could suffering could be redemptive.) It is not always an easy thing to believe. It is a little odd— “offering” something up for somebody else. But, then again, pain is a little odd— out of place in a world that God created and called “good.” So, perhaps its answer is odd too. And when I look at the most inspiring people, the holiest, happiest, bravest people— they all believe in redemptive suffering. They know how to “offer it up.”
So, when I have morning sickness, I offer it up. For lots of people, but, primarily, for the baby that is growing inside me. Doing that doesn’t do very much for the suffering. But it puts that little tiny spin on it, shines a little light in the darkness, gives me strength to bear it, and, hopefully, makes a difference for the baby. I am far from perfect in this sacrifice. I am most impatient and frustrated and exhausted when I have morning sickness. But I try, and I get through.
And, it changes me. It always changes me. Although morning sickness is always a blur, I always remember something from each bout of it, something beautiful that stuck with me and helped me rise above. One time it was a salad that somehow tasted really good even though I was nauseous. Another time it was the warmth of a fire enveloping me as I sat in front of it with my eyes closed. Sometimes, it is the sound of happy children playing across the room. This time, it’s the sound of the summer bugs and birds and frogs outside my window in the early hours of the morning. These tiny little beauties break through the fog and remind me how wonderful life is.
And then the baby comes, or, sometimes, the baby doesn’t come. Sometimes the baby leaves. But whatever becomes of the baby, I am made better for it. And I hope he or she is too.
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