Monthly Archives: July 2011

Am I Entitled To Behave Badly?

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Is being this pregnant a good enough excuse to check out of life?

I ask that question because, at nine months pregnant, I had an argument with a friend that caused me to take a step back and look at how I’d been behaving. Apparently, I’ve been behaving badly.

In my defense, pregnancy with a toddler is no walk in the park. My mother warned me of this, and I did not listen. Those of you who have gone before me, I know you understand. Those of you who have not, have absolutely no ground on which to judge. 

Factor in a husband who isn’t home much and you have one exhausted and cranky lady on your hands. Even so, maybe certain things aren’t excusable. This is where I found myself, on the day that the argument took place. Wondering why I thought I was excused.

I find pregnancy to be an extremely isolating experience. I withdraw. Frankly, I’d love to just hide in a miserable hole until it’s delivery time – but I have a very busy life that continues to happen even when I wish it could all just stop. So day after day I have been in survival mode, just trying to get through it.

Do I sound miserable? Yes? IT’S BECAUSE I AM.

In all honesty, I have been operating under the assumption that pregnancy is a card I can pull out if I need to. And I’ve been pulling it out – believe me. If I need a day to rest, I take it. If I need help, I ask. If I don’t feel like doing something, I don’t do it. 

During my pregnancy with ONE, I tried so hard to be “normal” the entire time. It was EXHAUSTING. It got me nowhere. I had a total meltdown several weeks postpartum when I realized that all of my efforts to be “normal” were a complete waste of time, because I wasn’t ever going to be the same again and why would I want to be?? I was a new and different person and I regretted not going with the flow and trying to enjoy the new me – the mother. So when I got pregnant with TWO, I didn’t even try to be normal. Not one bit.

Perhaps I went a little too far the other way.

Pregnancy, or any challenging life event, changes you. Behavior changes as life changes. What I was reminded of is that while I CAN say and do as I wish, it doesn’t mean other people won’t notice or care. Or, worse, be hurt by it. My mother is always reminding me of this. And just as in the above reference to her — she is usually right.

I have good friends; the kind who say, “You hurt me, but I still love you,” and I can say the same thing back. And then you move forward. At 31 years old, I’ve become quite good at moving forward. This is one of the things I love about being older.

Pre-Labor.

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I think I’m in pre-labor. 

According to What To Expect When You’re Expecting, this could go on for weeks. So far, it’s been going on for about one week. So … do with that what you will. 

The unfortunate part is, I have a job. And a two-year-old. Husband can pretty much take care of himself, but it’s really hard to feel like absolute crap and still function. In fact, on Friday, I stopped trying. I called in sick and I literally slept for almost 24 hours straight. I don’t recall going through this when I was pregnant with ONE. If I did, it was at the VERY end.

TWO has a name, and tiny soft clothes, and a place to sleep. I’m ready for him to come out (I think? I have some anxiety about that actually … ), but it’s still a little early — I’m only 35 weeks. We just have to hang on a little while longer. In the meantime, I am REALLY, COMPLETELY SICK OF FEELING LIKE CRAP AND COMPLAINING ALL THE TIME. 

To everyone who has to deal with me daily: I’m SORRY. I used to be a fun person. One day I hope to be back to my normal self. I don’t even worry about being fat forever … right now I’m worried that I’ll be a miserable complainer forever.
 

My New Phone.

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I have a complicated, love/hate relationship with gadgets. I’m pretty resistant to them, actually. It’s mostly because I know that once I am aware of how awesome they are, I’ll think I can’t live without them. This has happened to me on numerous occasions, mostly because I was prodded by my Husband. And then I became hooked.

Examples of this:

1. The internet
2. Texting
3. The iphone (or really any kind of “smart” phone)
4. Cable TV
5. Netflix
6. Automatic digital coffee makers
7. Blogging
8. Facebook
9. GPS

Husband is a gadget freak, but he seems to understand my fear of the unknown and has kindly guided me through uncharted territory. When I washed my iphone in the washing machine, he went to the AT&T store and got me a fancy replacement.

Here it is.

It’s an HTC Inspire 4G. Mine is red. I hated it at first, in all it’s shiny fanciness.

It scared me.

I love it now.

Moral of this story: sometimes, Husband is right. Not often … let’s not get carried away here. But sometimes.

MISERABLE.

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I’m miserable. MISERABLE. It sucks. I dislike being a Debbie Downer, but seriously. I have nothing positive to say. I am constantly dizzy, nauseous, uncomfortable, and generally pissed off.

This morning I lamented to Husband over why I did this to myself. Meaning, this misery. The pregnancy. I am so deep in Braxton Hicks and heartburn and constant lightheadedness it’s hard to see the other side — the part where the awful part is over and I have TWO in my arms. Before I see him, I will become even more miserable than I am right this minute and there will be several points where I feel like I might die.

I just need encouragement. I’m worried about my plan for a natural birth and wondering if I should just say screw it all and sign myself up for a c-section. Obviously, I’m having trouble with irrational thoughts along with all of my other issues. I’d like to hide in a hole until I meet TWO. Thank you.

My Husband Isn’t So Bad After All.

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Husband has had a rough time of it lately. He has to deal with a pregnant lady and a toddler on a daily basis. It’s not easy for anyone in our house right now.

I might complain about him and I might not understand all of his ways … but …
I LOVE THAT MAN.

Tomorrow we are having a yard sale. I’m basically dumping it all on him. I plan to help with the prep work: the organizing, pricing, advertising, etc. But the rest of it is his problem. And, as it turns out, he’ll also be solely responsible to watch ONE while it’s going down.

I won’t be there, because, you see … I have a hair appointment.

He told me to go get my hair done, and not worry about him.

Yeah, right.

But I consider it a nice gesture, and part of why I love him so much. I don’t know what I might come home to, but at least I won’t have roots showing anymore.

Rocks and Race Cars.

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Is it unacceptable to snack in a gynecologist’s exam room? Because I did. After an hour of waiting, plucking my eyebrows, flipping through magazines, and texting, I just broke down and ate my lunch. Right there next to the exam table. Stirrups and all.

Today was one of the worst days I’ve had in quite some time. I do not care to rehash. What I do want to share, is that sometime in the middle of this horrible day I noticed that my purse was much heavier than usual. Upon inspection, I found that ONE had filled it with rocks (where did he find those??) and toy race cars. 

I would have taken a picture, but alas — I washed my iphone in the washing machine on Monday.

Finding that stash in my purse made me instantly feel better. My job sucks, my husband refuses to do yard work, I got a parking ticket. So many things went wrong today … but looking inside my purse and finding all that stuff made it all better.

Motherhood makes me a better person.

Today.

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Today I took ONE to the doctor and waited for a very long time. When his pediatrician finally saw him, we learned that he has not just one, but two, small tears in his rectum. This explains why every time he has to poop he gets upset and tries to hold it in. It also explains why he constantly tells me “my booty hurts.”

I felt HORRIBLE. 

Then we left and I forgot to pick up his prescription. That made me feel worse.

We got home and I realized my throat was hurting and my neck and face looked swollen so I took a look with the flashlight. My tonsils appear to be infected. I feel okay … just tired. More tired than usual for a person who is very pregnant. I have no fever. So I decided to ignore it for now, because I had to deal with ONE, who was declaring every two seconds that his booty hurt.

Later, after we took a nap I found that ONE’s bed was soaked. His pullup leaked. So I stripped him and his bed and somehow in the middle of all of that, ended up throwing my iphone in the washing machine with the dirty sheets.

I washed it.

Here’s to hoping we can make it until Husband gets home without something happening that requires a telephone. Like labor.