I love my daughter more than I ever thought possible, and I truly feel like I was meant to be a mom. With that said, I will admit that I really don’t enjoy being pregnant. The second trimester is okay, but the first and end of the third really were tough for me.

There are things I do love though… Feeling baby kicks. Maternity pants. Being treated more delicately. Having an instant get-out-of-almost-anything excuse when I don’t want to do something.

But, for the most part, I’m not a fan.

One evening, while about 10 weeks pregnant with our first daughter, I remember getting home after a long day at work, plopping on the couch, looking at my husband and saying “I’m never doing this again.”

I meant it too. I was miserable. Nauseous, exhausted, achy, irritable. I never wanted to be in that position again.

Fast forward two-plus years later, and I’m exactly in that position. And I remember exactly why I said I never would be again.

Being pregnant (for me) the second time around, is much like the first time. I have all the same symptoms. But, there are two distinct differences:

1. I can’t just plop down on the couch and sleep for 12 hours this time because now I have an energetic toddler to care for.
2. Everything happens earlier than it did the first time. I started showing a lot sooner – like at 9 weeks. During my first pregnancy, I managed to squeeze into my regular clothes for at least 5 months. After that, I just bought a few stretchy maxi-dresses and called it a day. This time, I already had a new maternity wardrobe by the end of my first trimester.

There is one more difference, and it’s a very important one. This time, I know what the reward is at the end of the pregnancy journey – a sweet, perfect, amazing little person that my family and I will love and cherish as long as we live.

I didn’t get it the first time. I knew I would love my baby. But I didn’t know it was even possible to love someone this much. I knew our priorities would have to change, and we wouldn’t be able to have the same kind of child-free social lives. But I didn’t realize how much I would rather be with my husband and daughter having family time than be with anyone else in the world.

The bottom line is this. Being pregnant (for me) is a pain in my ass – literally. But it is so worth suffering through for a precious new addition to the family. And 9 months really isn’t a long time in the grand scheme of things – although some days if feels like freaking forever!