My First Pregnancy: Not the Glow-Up I Imagined

Let me just say this loud and clear — my first pregnancy was not rainbows and sunshine. In fact, it was more like a chaotic carnival ride where someone forgot to check the seat belts.

I used to envy those glowing mamas who just loved being pregnant. You know the ones — perfect bump, sipping smoothies, doing prenatal yoga, smiling like they're in a toothpaste commercial. Yeah, that wasn’t me. Buckle up, because my first rodeo was a wild one.

I was young, barely into my first year of college, and everything — I mean everything — made me sick. Food? Nope. Smells? Absolutely not. Just the air? Yup. I learned early on that when you throw up, sneeze, or even laugh too hard, you also pee your pants. And to think I used to giggle when my mom crossed her legs every time she sneezed. The karma was instant.

People said, “Don’t worry, morning sickness passes!” Well, mine didn’t. It camped out, unpacked its bags, and moved in for the entire pregnancy. I was hospitalized multiple times for dehydration. Oh, and as a fun bonus? I got diagnosed with gestational diabetes. Because why not add that to the party? Craving sweets? Too bad, here’s some insulin and sadness.

Then came the swelling. Oh the swelling. My lips looked like I went ten rounds with a sketchy Groupon lip filler deal. I was retaining water like a sponge in a monsoon. Come to find out, my blood pressure was through the roof. But my doctor said, “Hmm... you’re just one point below the protein level for concern.” Cute, right?

Well, the very next day that one point tripled. Suddenly I had preeclampsia, my kidneys were saying “peace out,” and my blood pressure was doing acrobatics. They admitted me at 36 weeks and started induction.

At first, I was trying to stay positive — bouncing on the birthing ball, watching Lifetime movies like I had it all together. But after 24 hours with no progress, they decided to shove a balloon up there to help me dilate. (Let that visual sink in.)

Eventually I made it to 6 cm, and they gave me an epidural. Bliss, right? Wrong. I started feeling my right foot again, which is apparently not supposed to happen. I told the nurse, and she straight-up said, “There’s no way you can feel your foot.” So I waved it in the air like I was doing the hokey pokey.

Her jaw dropped, and I said, “Just because I’m young doesn’t mean I’m dumb.”

She apologized real quick — then asked if they could take a picture of my back to show medical students what a bad epidural taping looks like. I was laughing and crying all at once. I said, “Cool, but do I get a redo?” Thankfully, they said yes, because I was 30 hours in, hangry, and begging for sleep.

Five hours later, my body was like, “Plot twist!” My blood pressure skyrocketed and my baby’s heart rate dropped. Cue: Emergency C-section.

They rushed me to the OR, and as they were prepping me, my legs started burning. Like, on-fire burning. I started panicking — turns out they were turning bright red, and someone literally said, “In 20 years, I’ve never seen this before.”

Next thing I knew, they said, “We’re going to have to put you under.” They wheeled out my mom and boyfriend, and everything went black.

Three hours later, I woke up in recovery. Groggy, confused, and kind of terrified. But then I saw her — my baby girl. With big, curious eyes and the tiniest little bird mouth. In that moment, all the trauma, the fear, the chaos — it vanished. I was completely in love.

If you’ve had a pregnancy like this — you’re not alone. It’s not always glowing bellies and cute bump pics. Sometimes it's pee pants, scary moments, and unexpected chaos. But the love at the end? Worth every second.