So, Adelaide turned one. (She’s actually almost eighteen months, but I’m still in denial, so I’ll post about that later. Maybe.)
I’m so sick and tired of the lie of Second Trimester Bliss. Sure, the never-ending nausea is gone (mostly), but I do NOT feel any of the other things so many people, books and blogs told me I would. There is no glow, no returned sex drive (forget a heightened sex drive!), no surge of energy, nada. I know one or two people who love the second trimester, so I don’t actually think I should call it a “lie” per say, but it sure feels like it’s a horribly over-emphasized phenomenon that happens to a small minority of expecting mamas. If you’re one of the lucky ones who loves the second trimester, I’m so happy for you, and a tad bit jealous, honestly. I want to speak up for those of us who do NOT love the second trimester, or we at least don’t love it as much as we were told we would. I want to share with you two things about the second trimester that I did not experience with Adelaide, and I certainly wasn’t expecting to deal with them this early, if at all.
The first reason I hate the second trimester is sciatic nerve pain. OUCH. It originates in my left butt cheek and shoots down my left leg. There is literally nothing I can do about it, and there’s really no predicting when it will happen. It happens sometimes when my legs are crossed, sometimes when they are parallel. Sometimes the pain ricochets as I’m trying to stand up from a seated position, sometimes it just happens out of the blue as I’m walking. I’ve experimented with several different ways of standing up and sometimes they work, but most times they don’t. Sciatic pain SUCKS, and I am so sorry for those who have had it for all of their pregnancies.
The second main reason I hate the second trimester also has to do with my butt. And this is why I am a hypocrite. I started this blog because I wanted to be up front and honest about pregnancy and motherhood, the good, the bad and the ugly. This is really ugly. Really ugly, really gross, and frankly, really humiliating. BUT, I want to be honest, so here it goes: hemorrhoids. I seriously have no idea what happened (I think sitting for the majority of Monday night on an airplane is mostly to blame), but somehow I’ve sprouted not one, but FOUR of the most disgusting little buggers and they HURT. Like the DICKENS. I sought advice and tried everything from sitz baths, to Preparation H, to sticking them back in, to witch hazel pads... You name it, I tried it. After nearly passing out TWICE, I finally called my doctor who, five freaking hours later, managed to send over prescription grade cream. Which didn’t work. Awesome. Thankfully I had some leftover goodies from my hospital stay with Adelaide, and it provided enough relief that I could sleep. But even my sleep was interrupted, because every time I wanted to roll from one side to the other, the pain would wake me. No position was comfortable, except sitting slightly leaning to my right in the bathtub. All. Day. Long. For three days. Can I just say that I was completely unaware of how often one clenches one’s butt all day long? Every time your glutes are engaged, which is basically any time you want to move any muscle below your waist. And every time you sneeze. Or laugh. Or cough. Or cry. Which I did for a good half hour on the way out of Safeway picking up my prescription. It is ridiculous how much pain four little marble-sized hemorrhoids can cause! (A trip to my OB revealed that they were sitting on a nerve which is what was causing the extreme pain and most likely the light-headedness.)
Five days later, I am doing much better. Maybe because they’re going down, maybe because I’ve figured out a pain management routine. Either way, my life is returning to some semblance of order. The apartment is a mess because I had no time to unpack after getting home, and I’m behind on a lot of things that require sitting at the table, but I’m all caught up on things that can be done from my side on the couch or the bath tub! (Read: New Girl, Bones, Real Simple November issue, Instagram and Facebook. So basically, everything that really matters.)
I want to re-pledge to you my readers (however few or many of you there may or may not be) to be raw and honest about this crazy journey called motherhood. It’s embarrassing how quickly I went from wanting to be “Honestly Mom” to censoring what I blog about because I don’t want people to think poorly of me (or my butt, in the case of this entry). I want to be real, because honestly, it’s the grossest and most mortifying aspects that make pregnancy and motherhood the unique life experience that it is. And I know I’m not the only one to have experienced these things. I never want someone to feel alone because I’ve kept my mouth shut in some selfish attempt to save face. So here’s to openness, rawness, and honesty.
I promise that ALL my entries won’t be about my butt, though.