Kids are wonderful, at times they do get in your nerves but generally having them in your life is a blessing.

They change you, quite positively, they make you a better person. They give you something to look forward to and something to live for. They give you a reason to get up each day and get going. There is no better motivator than a bunch of children who need and depend on you.

They make you want to exercise to get healthy, because hey you do want to live longer because they need you right?

They make you want to work harder because you need to earn more now to provide their needs and you just want to be someone they can be proud of someday.

They make you want to save and be responsible about everything including how you spend and save money. You want to make sure they will be well provided for.

You want to be a better person, the best version of yourself for them.

Having kids brings the best in people.

Plus they are a blast to have around. They’re both fun and funny. The things they say will have you cracking all day (when you’re not whining how difficult it is to clean up after them).

Having children is beautiful.

But being pregnant, carrying them in my tummy the whole nine months was a different story.

I did not enjoy being pregnant. I know many talk about their pregnancy as a magical moment in their lives. They savor every minute of nurturing a little human in their belly. They enjoy the ride.

I didn’t. And to be totally honest I hated being pregnant. It’s not about being selfish because I was fully aware I was doing all that for my baby, all I’m saying is that it wasn’t something I enjoyed and am not sure I’d be willing to go through again.

My first child came when I was in my late twenties. Six months into my marriage we found out that we were having a baby. I was excited and thrilled, but the excitement and joy came to a screeching halt as soon as the morning sickness came along. And then I started bleeding daily, heavily on most days.

I had to leave a job I love to carry my baby to term. My mother sat me down and made me choose. “At this point you really just have to choose, your career or this baby,” she said.

Ofcourse I chose to have my baby. It was a job I loved in my dream company in a position I never thought I’d get but I figured other opportunities will come after this. So I left and spent months on bed rest. Never did I ever regret this decision but I also did not enjoy the days after it. I was stuck in bed at home.

To make matters worse I found out I had gestational diabetes. I had to go on a strict diet while having bouts of morning sickness. I craved for so many things I couldn’t have.

I had to monitor my glucose level which meant pricking my finger with a needle, drawing blood, and checking my sugar levels three to five times per day (after every meal).

And because I had a very delicate pregnancy I had to stay in bed for most of my it. By the time it was okay to get up and move around I had swollen feet, swollen hands, nose, and everything. I had to have my salt intake controlled too and I felt that all I could eat was paper.

By my second trimester my early symptoms started subsiding, I was still pricking my fingers with needles a few times per day but atleast my vomiting and dizziness stopped. But then I statted having monster back aches, all through out. I kept peeing every five minutes and could not do number 2 properly.

By the third trimester my belly has grown so big and heavy I couldn’t sleep. My back felt like it was about to break.

My babies were both so big (thanks to their dad) that it was so difficult to carry them with my small frame. I felt like a French bulldog trying to get up in bed every morning. My tummy was huge. People thought I was carrying twins. Giant twin babies inside my small tummy carried by a tiny woman. My feet were almost always painful from the pressure.

For both my pregnancies I was counting the days, the hours, until I can get the baby out because I was in pain, and so much discomfort.

I couldn’t even stress eat to make myself feel better because I didn’t want my gestational diabetes to affect the baby.

For my second child the experience was almost the same ‘cept that I found out I was pregnant in the midst of a new job. She was well “anchored” in my tummy enough that I got to keep my job whilst carrying her. But the experience was not exactly easier. She too was huge! I felt like I was carrying triplets.

My feet were swollen I couldn’t wear proper shoes. Funny when I remember how far from my table I was because my huge tummy was in between. Miraculously I got so many things done at work but with so much effort and help from people around.

Needless to say if ever my husband will finally get to convince me to go through it again, it won’t be anytime soon. I know other mothers have had to go through a lot worse, there are so many conditions out there that make pregnancy doubly difficult for others (God bless them for enduring that). All I’m saying is that pregnancy isn’t something I like and am not sure I’d willingly go through again. If there’s a way to have more children without going through the pains of pregnancy I hope they find it in mylifetime (and within my reproductive years).

While people talk about the joys of carrying a miracle, I’ll be one to be flat out honest and say it wasn’t as joyous for me, maybe for some but not for me.