Two amazing things happened at the same time: health and pregnancy.
I had faith that I would have enough energy to keep up with the family we were starting. My heart was light and strong.
At the beginning of my pregnancy I worried more than most soon-to-be-first-moms. Every missed beat was followed by a rumbling through my chest. Because hearts pump the blood that carries oxygen, I had some anxious moments wondering if the baby in my belly was getting enough to survive.
I asked my doctor, instead of obsessing, and I trusted her answer. Deep breathing calmed me down on several levels.
Since diagnosed with cardiomyopathy, I have been the luckiest girl in the world. My heart was fixed with medication, not surgery or a transplant. I am alive and captivated by life. We got pregnant quickly.
I also had an amazing, easy pregnancy up until the very end.
No morning sickness, just a little nausea at night; no trouble sleeping in the first or second trimester, just weird dreams about the huge upcoming change; no hemorrhoids or swollen feet or hairy nipples.
And the baby did great, too, in my belly. Every ultrasound showed movement and all the good stuff you’re supposed to see in ultrasounds.
Yoga kept me focused, limber and relaxed. If you haven’t tried it, try it. Even when things started to get a bit weird, yoga helped me keep it together.
Suddenly, at the end of my perfect pregnancy, I wasn’t peeing as much as I should have been, I started gaining about five pounds a week and my blood pressure was up every other prenatal check. By my thirty-eighth week, my face was so fat that I could hardly find my eyes. And those thin ankles I was telling you about could no longer fit into my boots.
I wasn’t worried though, because the baby was still doing great. I kind of thought I had been getting off light up until that point; I was just paying my dues.
Sometimes reason keeps you moving, and sometimes it trips you up.