Mom 4 Biz

I remember those early days of being pregnant as furthering the emotional reliance of needing romance. I so desperately wanted to feel loved during those early days. When my, now ex-husband would shove me away or cut me down by telling me I wasn’t attractive to him, I felt sad and disillusioned by the process, but I still wanted romance. In fact, I still felt that being pregnant was romantic.

Then came the days when I began to feel “big and ugly” even though others told me how lovely I was, because my body didn’t fit into the pretty clothing in my closet any more. I was fine being pregnant even then, but I wanted someone to tell me I looked amazing. The baby growing inside was enough for me, but I really needed to hear that I was still attractive.

Then along came the bruising last days of pregnancy and I wasn’t feeling romantic anymore, I didn’t feel as if I was doing anything important, I just felt the abuse of my intestines and internal organs. The suffering was definitely overpowering the romantic feelings of creating a miracle. I was ready to be done with being pregnant… But, being pregnant wasn’t exactly done with me.

Those were my issues, way back when I was pregnant with my  youngest son. Now, watching my daughters endure the rigors of pregnancy, I’ve noticed similar feelings among their days. Good and bad days happen and both trivialize the consummate awareness of giving birth to the next generation.

As Jr. and/or Mini-me push  toward their goal of arrival, bruising ribs, shredding skin tone, and frustrating new mommies to tears frequently, I’m fully aware of the delicate balance between romance and “NO ROMANCE HERE.”