By: Alona Shaked

I’m writing some blog posts on the topic of loss and grief, including how to move through it and thrive. Last time I wrote a bit about the loss of my ability to breastfeed due to breast cancer. Today I want to talk about a different kind of loss, one that I am sure many women experience on their journey to motherhood (trigger warning). The loss of autonomy over one’s body, and major changes in its appearance.

I mentioned in my last post that I haven’t LOVED being pregnant. Well, that’s only partly true. I love the fact that I am going to have a baby and be a mom. I love the fact that I get the option to experience pregnancy and childbirth, especially since I worked so hard to get here. But while there are women out there (where are you, magical unicorns??) who glow and feel amazing during pregnancy, that just isn’t my experience. 

My first trimester was a blur of intense nausea, fatigue and anxiety. Hubs was still giving me injections in the butt every night until about 12 weeks (IVF is awesome), and I was bloated and could not feel more unattractive. I’m not sure how much of that was pregnancy, and how much was the lingering effects of a year and a half of being an IVF pincushion, but nevertheless I was far from my best self, physically and emotionally. It started to get a little better around week 15 after I finally got a prescription for the nausea. But the anxiety remained, with a few abnormal tests that are “probably fine” but let’s “wait and see” if it’s actually something horrible. Great…

Then we moved across the country, which was pretty stressful to do while pregnant in a pandemic and I think my body just started to fall apart a little. Aches and pains, sleepless nights due to leg cramps and acid reflux. Feeling like I’ve been drugged with Benadryl every day. Losing my trim and youthful shape. Wondering if I’ll ever get it back. 

Of course, all these complaints are things that I would sacrifice 1000x over to have my healthy baby in my arms come November, but I don’t have to play the Pain Olympics with myself here. Ignoring loss or burying it with guilt over all those people who are worse off just leads to unresolved and suppressed feelings, which trust me, always come out at some point to haunt you. 

But by acknowledging this loss and my fears, I can turn towards self-compassion instead of self-judgment to soothe that fear and sadness: Pregnancy is hard, especially at age 37! I am not alone in this. Many women have gone through this and can identify with these feelings. This too shall pass, it will be ok and my body will recover.

I can rely on my resilience to do whatever I can to feel better in the now. Take breaks and naps. Do short prenatal workouts that feel good. Get a pedicure. And I can trust that this is temporary and I will regain autonomy and comfort in my own body. Hello Post-Partum Peloton!

And last but not least, I can find try to find humor in the situation. It’s true what they say, laughter really is the best medicine.

More on loss, grief and overcoming it in my next post! Stay tuned…