I put my phone aside and take a deep breath. While I’m relieved to know that what I’m likely feeling is not harmful to me or the baby, I wish there was a solution. What can I do other than rest and restrict activity? Only Tylenol is safe for pain relief during pregnancy, as most other pain medications are unsafe for the baby.
The bright side? The condition isn’t permanent. All the articles agree that the pain could last until after the baby is born. I found links to purchase a support belt to help ease some of the pressure and weight off of the pelvis. After looking up some reviews, I purchase a pink-colored belt that will be delivered tomorrow.
Feeling accomplished that I have somewhat of a plan, I sit back and try to think of the positives. I just have to make it a few more months before the baby is born.
Ben comes home later that night to find me moping in bed. I tried to go to the grocery store to pick up a few items for dinner, but the pain was so excruciating. Every step I took was torture, and I barely held my tears back in the snack aisle. I abandoned my cart next to the chips and left. I didn’t let the tears fall on the drive home. It took a great deal of effort to get up the stairs, and about halfway up, I sat down on the steps. I meant to rest for a few seconds but ended up climbing up the stairs on my butt. I’m thankful for the side rails because I don’t know if I could have made it off the top step without it.
I finally let the tears fall when I made it into my bed, and I have been lying here ever since.
Here I am, pregnant and in a relationship with someone I never thought would be my other half until circumstances pushed us together. I should be happy and celebrating, but all I feel is a deep sense of sadness over not having a beautiful pregnancy. I feel lied to and cheated out of a magical experience so many other women enjoy.
I’m crying because I’m in so much pain. I couldn’t even endure a quick trip to the grocery store. Every step feels like I’m being ripped apart. Even a simple action like turning over in bed sends sharp shards of pain through my groin and my back. I can’t get comfortable. Walking hurts. Sitting hurts. Lying in bed hurts. Everything I do hurts. I can’t even take pain relievers because I’m worried about hurting the baby. It’s probably irrational, but I don’t want to mess this up.
All I have is my poor attitude and a growing baby who, no doubt, is feeling my sour mood. I’m having a pity party, but at least there are two of us attending. I would laugh at my joke if the circumstances weren’t so sad. Buffy and Spike do their best to comfort me. Their purrs help soothe me, and I snatch Spike in a bear hug. He pretends he hates it, but I know Spike loves to snuggle.
The baby has been active throughout the day, and whenever I feel it kick, I smile. My hands gently touch my swollen belly. Gratitude mixes with an overwhelming desire to simply wallow in my feelings.
Ben finds me in my room with all the lights off. It’s fall, and the daylight hours are getting shorter. I hear him creeping into the bedroom on cushioned feet and pulling back the covers as he climbs into bed with me.
He says nothing as he pulls me closer, and I sniffle into my pillow.
“Hey, tiger,” he says softly against my temple, placing a kiss there. “How are you holding up?”
I take a moment to answer him, trying to compose myself so he can’t tell that I’ve spent most of my day crying about my situation.
“I tried going to the grocery store, and I had to leave. It hurt so much.” My voice cracks on the last word as a fresh round of tears flood my eyes. Despite my efforts to prevent them, theyfall regardless. Sitting up, Ben grabbed the box of tissues I had on the nightstand table and handed me a couple. I murmur a thanks and wipe my tears away. Grimacing as I blow my nose at how sexy I must look right now.
When I’ve finally gotten myself back together again, Ben gently turns me around so that we’re lying face-to-face. I don’t meet his eyes, and he brings a hand under my chin and lifts my face until our eyes meet.
I expected his eyes to be filled with pity or remorse, but all I find is concern and warmth in his gaze.
“Tell me what’s on your mind,” he gently coaxes.
I sniffle and move to lay my head on his chest. At the sound of his heartbeat, I find mine has calmed down to match his rhythm.
“I have to work this weekend, and I don’t know how I’m going to make it through a shift, much less three shifts back to back.”
Instead of platitudes, Ben strokes my back in soothing circles.
“What do you want to do?”
I take a moment to answer him. All day long, it’s been on my mind. I reached out to my doctor’s office earlier to request another appointment. They finally called me back and said they could fit me in next Monday.
I take a deep breath, filling my lungs with Ben’s unique scent that always calms me.
“I’m going to go in tomorrow and see how I feel,” I decide. I know that it’s probably not a good idea since I barely made it through to the grocery store today, but I have to try. I need to know what I’m capable of.
“I have an appointment on Monday.” I pause before continuing, “I also canceled my gym membership for now.”
I feel him rear back in shock. He knows how important it is for me to be active. Exercise has been helpful for my mood and often helps me deal with my depression.
“Are you sure that’s a good idea?” he finally asks.
“Yeah. I mean, I can’t do most of the workouts anymore, and now I can barely walk. I will go back after the baby is here.”
I know I will have to return to the gym, and I dread how that will go. I’m sure that it will hurt a lot, considering it’ll be months by the time I am cleared by the doctors to resume physical activity.
Instead of responding, Ben pulls me in closer and hugs me to his chest. I must fall asleep because Ben is shaking me awake to eat dinner. He helps me get out of bed and follows close behind me as I shuffle to the kitchen. Ben pulls out my chair for me, and I ease into the seat.
