First Trimester Craziness
Pregnancy is a wild, miraculous thing. At twelve weeks along, I’m wowed by the process…and the crazy things that come along with this process.
Like the tiredness. Whoa. The tiredness.
Earlier this summer, this was my biggest clue that something was up…though it took me a little while to connect the dots.
I had been having this nagging, wanting-a-nap feeling for several days and then one day it finally became overwhelming. I pressed through with all my might and got one load of laundry folded and two emails sent. Over an entire afternoon.
I was alarmed at myself, to say the least. I kept thinking, Here I am, thirty years old, just finished this ridiculously challenging degree, and now I can barely fold laundry and send an email??? What is happening to me??
I was pretty discouraged. It’s laughable now. Thankfully, I finally got a clue and told Andrew I thought we might need to get a pregnancy test.
Turned out I hadn’t lost my lease on life – I had a person growing inside of me! Whew!
…And WHOA!! This is really happening. This is real life. It took me several days to get my mind wrapped around it.
But my abrupt appetite changes faithfully reminded me every 60 minutes or so that this was in fact happening and was indeed real life.
Oh, the first trimester appetite…
Ninety nine percent of my usual diet instantly became disgusting.
We had a long interstate drive about a week after finding out I was pregnant. Andrew was trying his best to get some lunch inside this woman and was mentioning every restaurant we passed.
Chick-fil-a? No way!
This went on and on and on. Finally, against all odds, a Five Guys caught my attention and didn’t sound repulsive. “Can you just stop there and get me a bacon cheeseburger?” Were these words really coming out of my mouth? I’m Miss “Pick Two at Panera.” When was the last time I even ate a burger??
It was delicious.
And that wasn’t my only burger. For about ten days, I existed on cheeseburgers, steaks, and chili-smothered spuds from McAlister’s.
But then the red meat phase passed and suddenly, childhood foods were the new thing.
Cereal. An old favorite I hadn’t eaten in years.
Then just the other day: A HARDEE’S GRAVY BISCUIT!
I ate these all the time growing up. These and doughnut holes were the joy of my life. But I let them go many years ago when I discovered health and fitness. I probably hadn’t indulged in a gravy biscuit since college. It was heavenly.
And that led to a Chick-fil-a chicken biscuit the next day. Around 10:40am I had a sudden surge of desire for one…but had a feeling they had already stopped serving breakfast. So I called to check, and sure enough, breakfast had ended at 10:30…but the guy helping me heard the urgency in my voice and put me on hold so he could check for any possible leftover biscuits. He came back with great news: he had found one and, yes, he would save it for me until I got there! [#WINNING] I made a mad dash for my car.
I’ll be honest though. The chicken biscuit didn’t hit the spot the way the gravy biscuit did. There’s still something weird going on between me and chicken.
Thankfully, I’ve also had a much healthier go-to dish: Olive Garden’s minestrone soup.
In the last ten-ish days, I’ve bought no fewer than four half-gallon buckets of this soup. It’s a tomato-based soup full of several kinds of beans, a little bit of pasta, celery, spinach, and other veggies. It’s delightful…when they scoop it correctly. The last two buckets I bought were scooped by someone who obviously doesn’t value good minestrone consistency. The bucket was ¾ tomatoes and juice – no beans or pasta in sight. I had no choice but to return those two buckets. [Andrew went in to return the second bad bucket, in hopes that I won’t get blacklisted.]
Some of you are probably thinking it’s pregnancy hormones behind the soup returns. But my passions for justice and right minestrone soup consistency reach WAY further back than twelve weeks. Pregnancy or no pregnancy, these returns were inevitable.
In the midst of resting and figuring out this whole food thing, I’ve continued my usual exercise regimen of an hour a day, six days a week. What used to take an hour, though, has been taking an hour and a half. Only in the last several days have I started getting back to my usual pace.
Which brings me to perhaps the sweetest thing I’m experiencing in this wild new season:
The Lord has graciously given me this season of pregnancy, and I’m going to receive it and walk in grace toward myself.
Workouts may take longer, my body may be demanding more rest, my appetite may be unrecognizable, and the routine I’ve enjoyed for years may be completely turned upside down… but all these changes are making room for new life. They are the Lord’s doing.
Something bigger than me is happening. And the best thing I can do is go with His flow and align myself with the Grace He is giving.