I am a historian, not in the sense that I am a history buff (although I do enjoy learning about history but can never retain specifics) but more along the lines of remembering odd dates and reminiscing about them. This habit drives Jake nuts and I’m sure it will someday make Rachel crazy too. I can’t say that I blame my husband for hating it when I say things like, “Do you remember what we did a year ago today?” This usually generates a look of panic that flashes across his face as he goes through the calendar in his mind, trying to recall birthdays, our anniversary, holidays, etc. When he is absolutely positive that he hasn’t forgotten anything important he’ll finally admit that no, he has no idea what we were doing a year ago today. Then I usually spout off some obscure fact like, “A year ago today I bought my first maternity shirt. Don’t you know what that means honey?! Look how much has changed since then!”
I was pregnant and miserable last year at this time. I hated being pregnant. I knew something was amiss before I could even take a test to prove my suspicions because I was already having morning sickness…and it lasted more than half-way through my pregnancy. Plus, there was nothing “morning” about it. I was sick all day every day. And when I finally wasn’t sick anymore I was exhausted, sore, losing my voice, fattening up everywhere and freakin hot (even in the middle of winter). I often admitted that I was, in fact, probably missing the mommy gene because I hated being pregnant so much. I found it hard to believe that some women not only like being pregnant but they miss those days.
Yet, as much as I hated being pregnant, the blessing was worth it and I will probably do it again.
Last summer I thought of a four-letter word that I think may very well describe these women, including my own mother, who choose to go through pregnancy more than once; hero.