Nine Months

Pregnancy. I didn't love it.  I know saying that is totally against the rules for an infertile, but I can't lie.  I was tired and sick, and then I had complications, and then I couldn't sleep, and I hurt, and I had more complications.  Don't even get me started on the crazy hormones!  Oh. my. word.  
I spent the majority of my pregnancy worrying that something would go wrong.  After so many years without a single pregnancy (nope, not one), I just didn't believe that my body was up for the task.  I couldn't believe that it was really happening.  And because I had complications, I had even more reason to believe it wouldn't end well.
I didn't gain a lot of weight.  In fact, I gained slightly less than the minimum recommended, but my small frame could barely handle it.  And I had an EIGHT pound baby!  Lance and I were both in the six pound range so I'm really not sure how we created such a big guy, but we did!  And it wore me out!
Somehow, in the misery of it all, I felt so incredibly thankful.  Thankful for the little kicks (less thankful for the big kicks, ha!), thankful for his strong heart beat, thankful just knowing that this little life was growing inside of me, that I was blessed to be a part of such a huge miracle!  Even though I was so ready for it to be over, I really tried to be thankful every day.
I knew that I would miss being pregnant, so that didn't come as a surprise.  What I didn't expect was being ready to do the whole pregnancy thing a hundred more times (ok, maybe not quite a hundred) if it meant I could experience that first moment after birth, seeing my sweet boy for the first time, and then the first hours, and those first few days!  It was magical and still is, and I just can't get enough of how yummy a newborn is! 
So yeah, it's confusing, and I don't understand it, but I hated pregnancy, and loved it, and I never want to do it again, but can you please sign me up for another pregnancy, like now?!?