Did you ever feel ugly while you were pregnant? I did. I actually despised my reflection in the mirror because my nose was big, my neck got dark, and I had zits. Truth be told, my pregnancy pictures were one of my ugliest photos, so I deliberately deleted them from my files.

There were some pictures I was able to save, however, during the early stages of my pregnancy. This one was taken when I was 1 ½ months pregnant. There were no obvious signs yet, except for the nose. See it’s started to get bigger already!


For more of my pregnancy story, please read my post "The Story of My Pregnancy."

If you want to join Mommy Moments, please visit Chris' The Mommy Journey.

“To give birth or not to give birth,” that is the question. Elders often say that you can’t really repay your mother for all that she’s done for you if you haven’t experienced being a mother yourself. I don’t quite agree with this pronouncement. For one reason or another, not all members of the female species are bestowed with the ability to give birth. Others choose single-blessedness. And still there are those who opt not to have kids at all. It’s everyone’s prerogative really; to each his own.

I never thought of myself as a mother. I never even thought of marrying to begin with. But as fate would have it, I married and I am now a mom (and proud to be one!). But being a mom isn’t all just fun and excitement. Along with the joy and blissfulness that accompany motherhood is the one thing that most first-time moms fear greatly, the pain of giving birth.

“What you don’t know won’t hurt you,” so they say. But what we do know will hurt us greatly. There is much to be said and heard and read about giving birth. And who else would tell you a great deal about it but those who have already experienced it. And none of them says it’s easy. And the pain that goes with it is yet another story.

And so it was that the nine months went by oh so swiftly and the day I dreaded the most came like a breeze. It was time and there’s no backing out. There’s really nothing much I could do but look forward to the time that the whole procedure is over. That’s how I psyche myself when things that give me so much stress is forthcoming -- look for when the thing is finished, ended, kaput!

And on that fated day of July 7, 2006, I woke up rather early, having been admitted to the hospital the night before, to receive my fleet enema before my caesarean delivery. And you couldn’t imagine how time flew so fast that I was wheeled to the delivery room and was prepped for the procedure, all the while trying to maintain my composure and convincing myself that it was all going to be fast and that it would be over even before it started.

And I saw the nurses, my anesthesiologist, an assisting doctor, and my O.B. Gyn. I should have been comforted knowing that I had one of the best doctors to perform the procedure and was in a good hospital. I was in good hands really but all the more that I was scared out of my wits. Why? Because all the time that an IV needle was being inserted on my left hand, the catheter was also being put to position, and my mind was going gaga on which first to focus on, the IV or the catheter, for both were detestable. Then I lay there, exposed to the highest level (like an animal about to be slaughtered), with my arms outstretched and trembling at that, and a drape placed between my head and the rest of my body.

My doctor announced it was going to be general anesthesia for me, so it was going to be fast. And there they all were, a group of people hovering around me, ready for action, going for the kill, and the feast is on me. The next thing I knew I was in the recovery room and my stomach hurt so bad I did not want to move a finger.

But I was up and about in no time. I healed so fast I could probably join a marathon. After almost two months and a 2-½-inch midline scar later, I have fully recovered. But have I finally gotten over the whole thing, giving birth, I mean? Nope, never. Will I do it again? I say nope, never, but we can never tell. But do I regret it? Nope, never. In fact, I wouldn’t have it any other way. Would you?

When I was young, I felt very secure in the company of my mom. Aside from the fact that my mom is quite tall and stocky, she has this particular urge to overly protect her children especially when we’re out in a crowd. As a matter of fact, she would battle a “war” if need be for the sake of her younglings. Call it maternal instinct or motherly love, but I didn’t understand it quite then.

Now that I’m going to be a mother myself, I wonder, will I be as overly protective as my mom was when I was just a kid? Will I worry so much to the point of being paranoid about my baby’s health and what-not? Will I want my kid to follow in his father’s footsteps or mine? Will I allow him to marry? Above all, will I love him as much as I have been loved all these years?

I just recently had an ultrasound which indicated very positively that we’re going to be proud parents of a baby boy. We almost believed this is going to be a girl. My hubby has been dreaming of a baby girl a number of times already. Daddy’s gut feeling has been wrong all along. Girl, boy, whatever, for as long as she or he is normal and healthy, that’s all that really matters.