Pregnancy is Tough on Husbands
The other day I saw a pregnant patient whose ultrasound showed a healthy baby the size of a peanut, tiny heart beating rapidly. My patient’s young husband stood nearby with a happy grin on his face, clutching the photos of his unborn child. The expectant mother was smiling too, but she obviously didn’t feel well. I asked her what was wrong.
“I’m nauseous,” she answered. “And no matter what I do, I – belch all day long.”
“Oh my gosh, Doctor, does she ever!” her husband chimed in, his smile fading. “You’ve got to help her!”
“She’s pretty miserable, I imagine.” I observed.
“It’s not just that,” he explained. “She belches during mealtime. Breakfast, lunch, dinner…it’s making me sick!” Eyebrows knitted, he placed a hand on his stomach as the memory of unpleasant mealtime sounds brought a green hue to his complexion.
His wife nodded her head sympathetically. “Yeah, he’s really having a tough time,” she said seriously.
Once again, I was reminded why I like taking care of women more than I do men. I have seen women sometimes embody a selflessness akin to Divine Love. It’s rewarding to give them the medical care they so often postpone while taking care of others.
But I’d be a liar if I didn’t admit some empathy with the young husband, too. My marriage was wonderful before Ann became pregnant. All that female generosity, focused like a laser beam right on me: meals, laundry, a clean house, even someone willing to listen to all my boring conversation and pretend to be interested.
All that changed when Ann got pregnant. Ann suffered profound nausea – off and on all day, every day. This was confusing. Something called “morning sickness” should end by noontime, no? I was a recent med school graduate in my first year of OB/GYN residency, knee-deep studying the physiology of pregnancy. The 20th edition of Williams Obstetrics clearly stated that “this so called morning sickness of pregnancy usually commences during the early part of the day but passes in a few hours…” Obviously Ann wasn’t reading the same textbooks I was.
I informed Ann that although no one knows what causes the nausea or what purpose it serves, it’s a sign of a healthy pregnancy. Hunched over clutching the toilet bowl, she didn’t seem appropriately reassured.
As a young husband with a pretty, talented wife, I had become accustomed to being surrounded with beauty and the sounds of music in our home. Not to sounds of retching.
I remember this was a tough time in our married life. Nevertheless, I tried my very best to encourage Ann, and despite my youth, made sure I was extra solicitous and loving in my communications with her…
“Sweetheart, what’s for dinner?
“Sweetheart, do I have any clean underwear?
“Sweetheart, does this tie match this shirt?”
In retrospect, I can see that my early approach to husbandly love had a few limitations. But I was genuinely befuddled. What happened to the rosy, happy glow of motherhood I had been expecting… you know, the one that graces all those pregnancy magazine covers? I was pretty sure that the fairy tale of marriage didn’t include the beautiful princess running to the bathroom, hand covering her mouth just as the prince was sitting down to enjoy his supper.
Ann threw up one last time the day before her cesarean section. She was at work and made sure not to bother anyone. The next morning I stood beside her in the operating room as one of my obstetrics professors removed our son from her uterus. Tyler’s cries soon filled the operating room. The surgical team focused all efforts on stopping Ann’s bleeding. As a young surgeon, I knew the blood pouring from her body was par for the course. But there was still a lot of it.
I looked at my beautiful wife as the surgeons were closing her abdomen. Ann smiled at me weakly. It had been a tough nine months.
I suppose it had been rough on her, too.
Understanding how much mothers and wives sacrifice, compared to what we husbands offer, is one of the stepping stones toward manhood. A boy thinks first of himself and expects others to give to him again and again. There are plenty of smiling boys with grey hair who remain self-centered and are certainly unhappy. A man appreciates what he has been given, understands what God wants – and dedicates himself to giving to those around him. It’s an uphill walk, but it’s the path we climb to happiness and fulfillment.
-Dr. Mike Litrel