My 3rd was pregnancy was hard. Like, really fucking hard.

I wanted to get pregnant. I really did. I was super excited when the stick said positive. But then week 7 rolled in and things changed.

I was sick. So sick. Dry heaving constantly. Feeling like the life was being sucked out of me. I hated it. I absolutely hated it.

There was a day in particular, early on, where I forced myself to go for a walk.

The weather was beautiful that day and I needed to get out of my house. While walking down a major roadway near my home I found myself puking in someones yard with tears streaming down my face. Apparently scream-crying is not good for pregnancy nausea (the things you learn).

6 weeks pregnant. Post scream crying and barfing while walking through my neighborhood. Not my finest moment.

In that moment I was filled with self-pity.

I was pissed at myself for rocking the proverbial boat that was my life. Things had been going so well. Why did I want to put myself through this for a 3rd time?

I wanted OUT. Out of what?

Everything.

I want to tell you that the first trimester passed and things got better. But that would be a lie. My nausea improved, yes. But the headaches replaced it and the sadness hovered over me like a cloud.

Joy?

Yeah there wasn’t a lot of that in my life last fall/winter.

As I neared my 3rd trimester, I found myself yet again crying on my bathroom floor.

I felt like I was downer for my family and my friends.
I missed my former, non-pregnant, self
Why wasn’t I feeling normal yet?
What the FUCK was wrong with me.

Somewhere in the middle of all this chaos I stumbled upon an article about pregnancy depression.

Wait? That’s a thing?

Yeah that’s a thing and I had literally every single one of the symptoms.

Somewhere in that moment I breathed a sigh of relief. Maybe it’s not totally my fault that I feel this way. Maybe I’m not an asshole. Maybe it’s going to get better.

When I said the word out loud to my husband and to my therapist, I imagine in their minds they were thinking “Yeah, no shit you’re depressed”. But they didn’t say that. They listened to me, they gave me support, they didn’t try to fix me. They were just there.

I don’t know how or why but the cloud started to lift. Maybe because I took some power back. Maybe because spring came and the sun started to shine,. Maybe because I stopped blaming myself and thinking there was something wrong with me.

Who knows. But, the 3rd trimester was an improvement.

As my due date approached, I was ready.

Ready to be done, but not entirely sure I was ready to be a mom of 3.

To be honest, 2 kids had me kind of tapped out. My business was facing so many exciting opportunities and my creativity was at an all time high. I wasn’t exactly thrilled about heading back to the starting line with a newborn.

I feel a bit awful saying this, but there just wasn’t the same level of excitement about this baby coming into the world. I was excited but it was more like “thank god this is almost over because I cannot continue being pregnant anymore.”

And then June 6th happened.

The moment Liv hit my arms. Joy, relief, love hit me all at once.

After a fairly routine labor and a super fast pushing phase, Liv Tyler Osby came into my life and it all made sense.

My fears about 3 kids… gone.
The resentment of my body for making me so sick and sad…. Gone.

Not to sound cliche’ but all the shit I was struggling with the previous 9 months was over. I had made it through and what you see in my face in this picture is the realization of all of that.

There was joy. There was love. It was so fucking magical.

A few days later, after we were home from the hospital there was this moment where I looked at Liv and the love I felt for her was almost too much.

Too much because I felt like an asshole.

Here was this healthy baby, that was such a blessing. She is perfection and I spent 9 months wondering if I made the right choice to have another child.

I spent 9 months annoyed with nausea, the changes happening in my body, wanting to run away from the hard that comes with a newborn. I feel like what I deserved was a slap in the face and what I got was perfect little baby that I was in love and completely obsessed with.

That’s some God stuff right there.

Liv will be 2 weeks tomorrow and I’m sure there will be struggles as we try to find our way with 3 children. But I can honestly say that right now, it’s (mostly) all good.

If I could go back to 4 or 5 months and give myself any advice it would be this: Girl, you got this. It’s all going to be better than ok. Trust me.

That’s all from me today. If you’re a pregnant mama make sure to check out my new free resource teaching you all about Modifying Exercise in Pregnancy. For the postpartum moms, I’ve recently released an 8 week post baby fitness program: Hot, Healthy, & Healing