At the beginning of November we found out we were pregnant with our fourth child. I’ve contemplated having a fourth (and last) baby for a while. I went back and forth and back and forth and even my husband (who originally wanted 6 kids) was on the fence as well. Three kids and a business definitely keep us busy. Plus my first trimesters are tough on me, my husband, my kids and anyone else who has to be around me.
This last October though, my Dad took my Mom to Denmark where she was born for her 60th birthday. My siblings and I flew out to surprise her (you can see the video here and the blog post here). It was then I realized nothing means as much to me as my family and I want my kids to be close to me when I’m older. Just like my parents.
Before I get into my first trimester details I want to be clear that I am very appreciative that I can have babies. I have many friends that struggle with infertility and it’s heartbreaking. I don’t want to come across as ungrateful, but I also don’t think it does women any service to pretend like we have it all together when we don’t.
I’m always SUPER sick my first trimester. I have extreme nausea all day and all night and the heartburn is at a level 10/10. In fact, the first thing I do when I find out I’m pregnant is call my family and tell them good-bye since I won’t be seeing them until I’m about 15 weeks pregnant.
During this time I’m in survival mode. I eat anything to help curb the nausea, which causes my husband doing late night runs to the grocery store for my latest cravings, which then causes extreme heartburn. And like most pregnant women the smallest task causes complete exhaustion so my bed becomes my new best friend.
My husband is a total rock star. I always say I could die tomorrow and he wouldn’t miss a beat, but he still has to work full-time (he’s the CEO of Oilo if you didn’t know), manage kids, sport schedules, homework and more without much help from me. Thus our house quickly becomes a hazard zone. Toys are everywhere. Laundry piles up. Cereal becomes the common dinner entrée. It’s not pretty. And to top it off, he has to live with a total grouch (me!). I’d complain that I needed more compassion from him (when he probably needed some serious compassion too) then I’d go quietly cry myself to sleep because I couldn’t believe I did this again… for the fourth time. Had I not learned my lesson from my other pregnancies?
My parents came by one Sunday afternoon. I was in bed and my house wasn’t exactly in Martha Stewart condition. Apparently a family meeting was called shortly thereafter because within a day my family was picking up my kids to help with babysitting and a cleaning crew was called in to help with my house. I honestly didn’t think it was THAT bad, but again, when in survival mode my judgment cannot be trusted.
I am now 18 weeks. The morning sickness fog has lifted and I can now see how amazing my family, husband, kids, and our Oilo team have been to help me survive. Each of them took on extra responsibilities so I could grow this baby. I can also see that in the scheme of things, three months is not a lot to sacrifice on my part for an amazing child’s life, but I am so, so, so happy I’ll never go through it again. I’m done! And our little family is so excited to move onto this next stage of enjoying the anticipation of meeting our newest family member.
OTHER POSTS YOU MAY LIKE:
How to survive the first trimester by Annalisa (Oilo's Founder and Head Designer)