Maybe some days are better to not blog.
This may be one of those days.
And yet here I sit.
Because I appreciate reading other writer's real feelings, I thought it all the more appropriate it share mine with you.
Today, it's something like this:
Being pregnant can be hard.
In fact, I fear I've reached the point where I'm convinced that the next few weeks are going to feel like another nine months.
I'm going to be pregnant forever.
Yep. I said it.
For-ev-ah. For the rest of eternity. For the rest of my life.
I spent yesterday afternoon at the hospital, filling out my maternity pre-admission paperwork and signing a billion consent forms. I then, in a daze, rode the elevator down three floors and spent the next half an hour filling out the hospital's business pre-admission paperwork. By the time I'd reached the OB's office for my appointment, I felt exhausted. Mentally. Physically. Emotionally.
Physically, I've been battling a nasty cold for the past few days that's left me with low-energy, a stuffy and runny nose, sore throat, achy head, and plugged ears. I haven't been able to sleep well with the whole *breathing* requirement poising such a challenge.
And physically, ya know, I'm also nine months pregnant. The baby is low. My ‘female parts' are extremely sore. Sleeping has become a real challenge, amidst the moving baby and rotund mid-section.
I can tell my body is preparing for labor. And that'll change a woman.
Mentally, I'd been battling our danged furnace all morning. For some reason, the danged ‘ol thing decided to quit blowing out hot air. And at the same time, our water heater decided to not put out more than four or five inches of hot water. Which made for some chilly showers and baths. Hello? Landlord? I'm angry and I'm pregnant and I'm chilled and I'm tired and I'm sick and I need you to fix this NOW!
Did I mention that I've got an overload of hormones at the moment?
Emotionally, after seeing the delivery rooms, I realized how close we are to this life changing experience. I realized that when we leave the hospital, we will have TWO car seats strapped into the back seat of the X-Terra.
Even the idea of two car seats was enough to send me over the edge.
Can I really do this?
Can I be a mother to TWO babies at the same time?
Then, in my hormonal, emotional, and physically exhausted state, I began to question my mothering abilities. Georgia has been battling this cold as well and it's taken it's toll on her. We've both been short tempered. Achy. Grouchy. Tired. And that's not a good combination for Mama and toddler.
And as she splashed her bubbles out of the bathtub after being repeatedly asked not to, I felt I'd hit a wall.
I came back out to the kitchen table and told Stuart I'm the worst mother that has ever lived and that I shouldn't be allowed to raise another child.
He said I was being dramatic.
Then, I proceeded to tell him that I wasn't going to survive the night.
Why? He asked.
At which point I went into a long and elaborate explanation of my pitiful mental, physical, and emotional state.
He assured me that at some point very soon, I will have this baby and will no longer have to waddle around like a whale. I will, at some point, be recovered from this cold. Our furnace and hot water tank, very soon, will be fixed. And that Georgia, at some point, will tell me I'm a good Mother (despite my failings at moments).
There is no doubt incredible blessings that go along with being pregnant. Growing that child inside you is such a miracle. But y'all – let's be real here. Some days, it can be hard.
And whoever says it's not is lying.
I remember getting to this point with Georgia. Where without warning I'd collapsed on the floor in a fit of hormones bawling and just knew I would never survive past that particular moment. It wasn't even that I was sad, per say. I was just on overload.
Today was an overload day.
Today was the kind of day where I would have loved to show up at my parent's house for dinner so that I wouldn't have to make one more decision or exert any more mental energy. Even on something as stupid as a sweet potato.
Yes, my friends. Today it was the sweet potatoes that did me in.
Just seeing them sitting on the counter, knowing I'd have to some how create something out of them for dinner, left me in angry and resentful tears.
(Mind you, at this point, I threw Georgia's boots on her, loaded her into the stroller, grabbed my flannel overcoat and headed out the door. Stuart asked where we were going. I simply replied ‘Out of here.')
Damn sweet potatoes, anyway.
I know tomorrow will be better. I know His mercies renew every morning and for that I am so grateful. I used up all of today's mercies. I am in need of some more.
Shaye, you shan't be anxious. You shan't be angry. You shan't be so dang hormonal. You gotta keep it together, girlfriend.
In an effort to do so, I am going to sit in the bathtub (yes, the one with four inches of hot water) because that's where my nose can drain and my belly can relax. It is my happy place. I shall make myself a cup of green tea and I shall begin to pray for strength and grace to get through this moment.
If you need any hormones, you're more than welcome to come and have some. I've got enough to share.
I'll even make you a cup of tea to go with 'em.
And that's all.