I had always heard that pregnancy was such a beautiful and amazing thing to experience. That women’s bodies were meant to create a baby. That your baby bump would be cute, and having cravings is fun. Being pregnant is full of happiness and joy.

It all was a lie.

For me, at least.

I got pregnant in January and found out at just 5 weeks along. Finding out was nerve racking. I wasn’t trying to get pregnant and had only been with my boyfriend for a month. This set my anxiety on high for months. I didn’t want to sleep in my bed and stayed with my great grandmother, so I wasn’t alone. I slept in her bed while she slept on the recliner next to me. I needed to rewatch my comfort shows to keep negative feels at bay. I would lie in bed, under blankets, still shivering. I was also worried about how my boyfriend and I’s relationship would pan out. We didn’t really know each other yet. 

About a couple days later, I started having morning sickness. I knew this was normal, but it progressed really fast into me throwing up every five minutes. I couldn’t eat, drink, or move without throwing up. One day I looked in the toilet after throwing up and there were streaks of bright red blood in it. At this point, I knew I had to go to the emergency room. When I got there and got checked in, I was hooked up to an IV and dressed in black sweats and a black hoodie. I was trembling uncontrollably, unable to stop shivering. I was wheeled in a wheel chair to get an ultrasound done. My first ultrasound to double check my baby was okay. We were in a dimly lit room, and as I lay on the bed, the ultrasound tech used a transvaginal ultrasound wand. I could feel a lot of pressure and the cold from the gel she put on the wand. I looked at the computer screen, but I had absolutely no idea what I was looking for. I waited patiently to see the photo of my baby. The black and white image was so surreal. It didn’t even look like a baby. I was only about 6 weeks pregnant, so it looked like a weird little fish with nubs. I was happy to see that my little “nugget” was okay, but at that moment, I wasn’t happy to be pregnant. I was miserable. I was dehydrated, cold, and nauseous. I was prescribed Zofran, a nausea medication. This was a LIFE SAVER. I could not go a single day without taking two or three Zofran a day. This was the only way I was able to function.

I also waddled like a penguin most of my pregnancy. I wasn’t able to walk normally from the start. I’m not sure why, but my body couldn’t help it. 

At 17 weeks pregnant, we had a gender reveal and found out we were having a baby girl! This was the time it became more real that I was having a baby and a joyful, beautiful moment. Having our family and friends around to celebrate us having a daughter was a spectacular moment. The moment that I was happy to be pregnant. 

That became short lived.

Soon into the second trimester, I began having pelvic pain. My family was telling me that it was normal to be uncomfortable, but it was to the point that I literally couldn’t move without crying. This made my family nervous. I once again had to go to the emergency room and was basically told there was nothing they could do. I got diagnosed with PGP, Pelvic Girdle Pain. This is a musculoskeletal disorder that was causing me pain in my pelvis, lower back, and hips. I was prescribed some medication and sent home. I only took a couple pills because it wasn’t recommended to take while pregnant unless absolutely needed. I felt miserable. I was still taking Zofran, and now I couldn’t even sit down without wanting to cry. The pain that made me not be able to move only lasted two days, but all the pain didn’t go away. Any time I sat down, I could feel my spine pop back into my pelvis. Both bones grinding back into place. Having to hold my breath every time I got into my car, having to lay down after walking for 15 minutes, having to waddle everywhere I went, having my clothing become tighter and squishing my belly to me, and having to need a nap or two everyday. I felt like this for 28 weeks or longer.

In my third trimester, I began to feel “normal.” I didn’t have to take Zofran anymore. My appetite was more normal than it had been. I could eat more than just cereal and watermelon. I had more energy to do things. I didn’t need to lie down after walking for 20 minutes. But it was also summer, and I was seven and eight months pregnant in the hottest months. I couldn’t be outside in the sun for more than five minutes without feeling like I was going to faint. The heat was my enemy, and I avoided it as much as possible. I lived like a vampire and stayed inside for two months or longer. Feeling hot and agitated until it began to cool off. Once the air became less and less hot, I was back to feeling “normal.” But then my daughter decided that I was not allowed to have an ounce of peace during this pregnancy and nicked the water sac. Causing me to leak water three weeks early and have to go to the emergency room again. I had to test and see if I was leaking amniotic fluid or not. The positive line was very, very faint, so the nurse didn’t even see the line and told me I wasn’t, and I was getting more discharge. I was nervous and didn’t want to leave in case it was my amniotic fluid, but I also wanted to trust the nurse who told me it wasn’t my amniotic fluid. The nurse got a bit snippy and called for the doctor. While we waited for the doctor, the nurse looked impatiently at us with her arms crossed and her hip poked out to the side and sighed. The doctor came in and was unsure of the test results because she did see the positive, so I had to take three more tests. It was a long, angry experience. I was lying in that uncomfortable emergency room bed that felt like a deflated air mattress. Feeling wet and scared to sit up, so I wouldn’t get the sheets wet. The doctor did a cervical check, and while doing that, she checked to see if she could feel the water sac. She pushed on the sac, and a gush of warm liquid came out soaking the bed and my blue gown. The nurse’s mouth fell open, and all the doctor said was, “yep it’s broken.”  I was admitted to the hospital. Immediately, my boyfriend and I both started crying. Tears ran down our cheeks while laughing and having a big smile that turned our cheeks red. I was excited to not be pregnant anymore, but also nervous to give birth. I was thankful for my boyfriend because he was so supportive from the beginning to the end. He saw me at my worst from the very beginning and that made us become stronger together. That night on September 21st, 2024, I was put on Pitocin to induce labor and had my daughter at 2:13am on September 22nd, 2024.

I love my daughter so much but am so traumatized by pregnancy. I felt a little alone because no one says how terrible pregnancy is. I had no other mom to talk to about the negatives of pregnancy. I wish it could be more normalized to say the whole truth about pregnancy. Yes, pregnancy has beautiful moments of your baby kicking your stomach, and finding out their gender, and celebrating with family for your baby shower, but for the majority of the time, it’s not fun, it’s not exciting, and it’s not beautiful.

Biography: My name is Jasmine Davis, and I am a student here at AIMS. I am also a mother to my one year old daughter. I am enrolled at AIMS to achieve my associate’s degree in Psychology. I also enrolled in AIMS after gaining motivation to make a great life for myself and the family I have created. I will graduate from AIMS this spring! After that, I will continue my education at UNC to achieve my bachelor’s degree in psychology. I was drawn to creative writing because I enjoy storytelling and evoking deep emotions. My work tends to be more on the serious side of life and storytelling. I like to help people imagine what other people can experience, and that not everything pictured as beautiful is actually beautiful. Music artists are some who inspire me to be detailed and evoke emotions within my readers. It’s a way of communicating when you can’t find the correct wording to speak with.