Is it crazy that I envy her discomfort?
Irrational that I desire such inconvenience?
I see her carry our promise,
yet I’m ever drawn to the fact that SHE feels each stage of the baby’s growth.
The bonding process has begun, and is enriched with each moment of the struggle, while the most I can do is offer my assistance.
This constant uphill battle has strengthened our bond as husband and wife; yet the deep, true bond with our baby, for me, starts at birth, not at conception.
Not to say that I’m unattached, or uninvolved, but a huge part of me wonders what this joy is to experience first hand, rather than attempting to coach the star player that is my wife, from the sidelines.
This pregnancy has been difficult, much like the first one. The pain is nearly constant, the vomiting can be excessive. the lack of energy and personality can sometimes make me feel robbed of my wife. On her good days, it is a joy for me; to see her smile, to be reacquainted with the woman I know and adore. Her good days, or more often good moments, keep me positive.
I would do nearly anything to relieve my wife of this constant pain, especially knowing that we have 4 more months of this. I hate vomiting, but I would give anything to endure that, so SHE could have her strength and stay hydrated. I detest being unwell or in bed, but I would gladly take the bedrest she’s endured just so she could have a hope of saying “I love being pregnant, it’s wonderful!” I truly try my best not to be bitter when others talk about how great all of their pregnancies were.
I’ve never felt so weak and powerless as I do each time my wife is pregnant, knowing the help I can offer, at best, is limited. I’m emotional, yet highly depended upon to function at full capacity, for the benefit of our family, especially our daughter, Alexzandria. So, I’ve withdrawn from all negative sources, WE can’t afford to have anyone attempt to extinguish my positivity…our family is riding on it.
My role is essential, but even for a moment, I wish I could be the one in discomfort…not my bride.
Is it crazy that I envy her discomfort? Irrational that I desire such inconvenience? Yet still, I am beyond thankful for her sacrifice. My queen is a mighty one.