What To Expect When Expecting

The Mean Things People Say When You’re Nine Months Pregnant

Well, after nine months, it finally happened – I’m a Mom! Our new little boy Teo was born on March 15th and he’s healthy and happy.

The week before I gave birth I think I hit a breaking point. I felt huge. I only gained 45-50 pounds in total during my pregnancy but I have never been that big in my life so it was a huge adjustment. I was already feeling self-conscious about my size. (I would expect that all pregnant women feel that way – not only are you bigger around the waist, but everything else can swell up too, your hormones are out of whack, and just in general you don’t feel like your usual beautiful self.) And when people starting making fun of me for it, I just couldn't handle it.

For the most part I was pretty lucky as far as not being subjected to too much in the way of insults, but as I got bigger I did start to hear things slip out from people I know and love. In the last couple of months I found out that my baby was below average in size and that I would probably need to be induced to let him out early. When my doctor first told me that the baby was undersized, I asked if I needed to eat more or gain some weight, but he said of course not – he said I was healthy and the baby’s vitals were good, and that babies just sometimes come out small. But when I told my friends and family about this, they kept pestering me to eat more. And it really got to me – I felt like I needed to constantly defend myself and my eating habits, which was the last thing I wanted to be doing.

But there were other things people said to me that really bothered me too. Most of these were said in jest, or casually, with the implication that I “could take it” – but it doesn’t mean I liked it. They included things like:

You’re a monster now who just eats all the time. 

The person said that this was a joke and that they only said it because they knew I could take it. I was fine with it at the time, but this was only the first in a cavalcade of insulting jokes and snide comments.

Wow, I’ve never seen you so fat before, this is great! Let me get a picture.

This person took a picture which ended up on Instagram. It bothered me, but again, I tried to brush it off. After all, I was only a few days away from giving birth.

How does it feel to be a whale?

This hurt, but I realized that this person was only re-purposing words that had come out of my own mouth. The way this made me feel was a harsh reminder that if you’re having body issues, you shouldn’t use hurtful words to describe yourself because then that will make other people think that it’s appropriate to throw those words back in your face.

I don’t want another child with you because you didn’t exercise while you were pregnant.

I’m sure you can guess who said this last – and in his defense, he was grumpy and tired when he said it. My partner has been an amazing support system throughout my pregnancy, during labour and after the birth of young Teo. I couldn’t do any of it without him. But anyone who’s been in a serious relationship will understand that sometimes bad things get said in stressful situations, and when this got said it actually made me cry. It just felt like at that point in my pregnancy everything that was being said around me was really mean or hurtful. The thing was, I was going to AquaFit throughout my pregnancy – which is at least some form of exercise. So it also wasn't entirely fair.

In general, I can take a joke better than most. The things said to me in my state were peanuts compared to the things that some pregnant women have to put up with. But in general as a society I think we need to be more mindful of pregnant women everywhere. Every woman is different, but it just makes sense to be nice and respectful to a woman who is going through the process of making a whole new person inside of her. Anyway, I’ve now given birth and it was the most painful thing I’ve ever experienced – the hardest thing I have ever done or ever will do. (Maybe that’s a topic for our next blog post?)

SHOW SOME RESPECT!

-Sarah

When Life Intervenes

About four months ago - it was a few days after Halloween - I slipped trying to change the temperature in the shower. I tried to grab onto the curtain as I fell, but it came down with me, and on the way down my head slammed into the bathroom counter. I didn’t hit my head so hard that I blacked out, but I did hit it fully flush. In the moments afterwards, I immediately thought, “Shit. That’s exactly the kind of innocuous injury that could turn out to have major complications.” My brother and two of my aunts have had significant concussions in the last few years, and it seemed like I was destined to be next on the list. 

After I fell, I felt dazed – not pained, but confused enough that when I sat down to start writing a few minutes later I could tell that something wasn’t right. I went to the doctor, and as the week progressed and I continued to feel discombobulated, I went back to the doctor a week later. She acknowledged that I might have suffered a minor concussion.

Concussion symptoms are weird, and hard to describe to someone who hasn’t gone through them. There was no real pain for me (aside from the very occasional pinch). Mainly there was exhaustion and the feeling of a pounding hole in my head – like my thoughts weren’t completely coherent. That’s not to say I couldn’t formulate sentences or understand things, but rather that there was some kind of a gap in my thought process. I was like a computer that still worked fine in spurts but was incredibly laggy and needed a restart every 2 hours. For about nine days I rested up, mostly avoiding the internet and work. When I did go into work, I wore thick clip-on shades to shut out the industrial lighting at my job, and occasionally earplugs to block out the music, conversation, banging doors and utensils – essentially, all the sounds that inevitably come from working in the kitchen. Once I hit my head, it was like my sensory register was turned up to 11 – all the little sights and sounds that I had spent years learning how to block out were coming at me like they were blaring out of movie theatre speakers.

I basically spent a week in bed with the lights out. About nine or ten days after my initial concussion, I got up and tried to take a walk around the neighbourhood at about 9 in the evening. To my surprise, it went well. I wore the shades to shut out car headlights, but other than that I had no real difficulty handling the sights and sounds that come with being in the city at night. It felt good to finally leave my bedroom and experience the world again. Over the following week, I gradually worked myself up to full speed again. By the end of November I felt essentially normal. I still carried the shades to work, but I didn’t wear them. I could watch basketball games without any concern about aggravating my brain. And most of all, I could write again.

Feeling fully recovered, I started to ramp up my workload. I started writing for a Raptors site. I wrote a number of articles in a row for a clickbait site, in order to get a payout reward for writing so many in such a short span. After that, I began hunting around for more writing work. I was focused on building my resume up, all while working four days a week at my restaurant job. I felt newly refreshed, and I put pressure on myself to try to achieve as much as I possibly could as a writer in the shortest possible time frame. And it worked for a while. I learned how to handle multiple assignments a week. I planned my time around writing. I’ve never been a particularly organized person, but my weekly schedule became more regimented.

But then one day about three weeks ago I got to a Thursday morning (which was my first shift of the week – I work in an industry where Thurs-Sun shifts are the norm). I realized that I was feeling more tired than usual. I turned my girlfriend and said, “I’m exhausted. I think I really need to take it easy this weekend.” She pointed out that if I was serious about taking it easy, I shouldn’t be working. I shrugged the comment off, figuring that doing my best to not overly strain myself that weekend would be sufficient. I could rest on Monday. I got through my four days, but by Sunday I was absolutely burnt out. I was asked to stay a couple of hours extra on Sunday to close the store, and I realized I simply couldn’t do it. My head was getting all muddled up. I was too tired to do anything – even the most basic tasks at work. I started making mistakes on the line – little mistakes, like skipping a burger or missing a modification on an order. The other supervisor agreed to close for me and I left early – still thinking that a bit of rest was all I needed.

I rested for three days, but by Wednesday I knew something was wrong – I couldn’t go into work. So it was back to the doctor, and another week spent resting, almost as if the concussion had returned full force. My head began throbbing in exactly the same way it had when I had my initial concussion – just waves of exhaustion and confusion pouring over me. At one point we ordered food for delivery and the trip from the couch to the front door to collect the food was so exhausting that by the time I got back to the living room I needed to lie down. Staring at a computer screen for longer than 5 minutes was overwhelming. After a week, I still felt messed up, so I returned to the doctor and explained my situation. She agreed that I’d been overdoing it, and simply needed to stop working so hard. In short, she told me that I would need to choose between my writing work and the restaurant job that pays the bills, at least in the short term.

Since that doctor visit, I’m feeling a lot better. I’m starting to watch my basketball games instead of listen to them again. I can check the internet when I need to. I’m no longer curled on the couch with my head in my hands. In other words, I’m functional. But I’m still not normal. I still get home from work at 2 AM and sleep till noon. I still need to take fifteen minutes to relax every few hours. I haven’t watched a single movie in probably a month. Going forward, I’ve scaled back my writing commitments – informing two of the sites that I was writing for that I needed to take an indefinite hiatus. Another site I plan to return to tomorrow, but only with a very reduced workload. If there’s anything I’ve learned from the past few months, it’s that head injuries are nothing to take lightly.

Between Sarah’s baby, and my head injury, the progress on this book certainly isn’t what either of us expected it to be a year ago – or even six months ago. Life comes at you fast. Goals are great, but sometimes real life gets in the way, and between both of our physical situations, I don’t think either of us are in a position to push as hard as we’d like on this book right now. But Sleeping With The Material World is our child and it will persevere even if its parents neglect it. We will get this book finished…eventually.

-Simon

Pregnancy Update Vlog: Ready To Pop