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Sunday, September 23, 2012

Honesty: I Hate Being Pregnant

Exhibit A:  A circus tent

I haven't posted anything in a while because I don't want to post something that is not honest.  Sooo...

Gather 'round friends, it's time for a heart-to-heart.  I can't keep this inside anymore.**

I hate being pregnant.  And that's ok.  It's not going to make me a bad mom.  It doesn't mean that I don't already love my daughter.  And it definitely doesn't make me "less of a woman."  It simply means that I hate being pregnant.

I miss my body.  Before I got knocked up, my body and I had been getting along pretty well.  I was feeding it good stuff and it was craving more good stuff.  It didn't regularly throw me a surprise to deal with when I woke up in the morning.  I knew what to expect from it because I knew how the things I was doing would affect it.  Not anymore.  Now, all I want to eat is garbage.  Fruits and veggies?  Well balanced meals?  Please...those are so last year.  I want cake.  And donuts.  And pie.  And ice cream.  Anddanishesandstrudelsandcandyandicedmochasandgummiesandchocoloateohmygodchocolate.  Oh, and all these things that I am craving?  Will probably bring on the trifecta: heartburn/indigestion/constipation. Damned if I do, damned if I don't.

And the exhaustion....ooooooh the exhaustion (this is where, please, I don't need to hear "get used to it").  I could go to bed at 7:00 pm and wake up tired the next morning.  Not only do I literally have another human being sucking the energy out of me,  I never hit REM sleep these days.  I fall asleep only to have to get up an hour later to pee.  All.  Night.  Long.

These days, when I wake up in the morning, I never know what is going to great me in the mirror.  Acne?  Maybe.  Random stray hairs?  Probably.  And what size will I be?  What will fit?  What will I be able to wear to work where I have to stand up in front of 100 judgmental preteens everyday?  Great fun is had by all!  Actually, several times the closet/mirror has won and I have been reduced to tears.

Speaking of the closet, let me shout it from a mountain top: I HATE MATERNITY CLOTHES.  If I have to wear one more GD empire waisted shirt or dress I am going to scream.  If I have to go out and spend any more money on clothes that I am only going to wear for the next three months, I am going to cry.  Sometimes I play the game in the morning:  "What would I wear if I wasn't pregnant?"  and mentally go through my pre-preg closet to pick out an outfit that fits, is stylish, and doesn't look like I'm wearing a circus tent.

In a moment of weakness, Z admitted to me that he misses his wife.  I miss her, too.  He has been amazingly, wonderfully, incredibly supportive through this entire pregnancy.  Unfortunately, I hold things together all day and unleash the crazies on him in the evening.  He never knows which wife he will come home to.  The happy, well adjusted wife?  The crabby, throwing things at the wall wife?  Or, most often, the sobbing in a puddle on the couch/bed/floor wife?  Stable I am not.

I am actually looking forward to labor and delivery.  I am sure it will be painful beyond what I can imagine right now.  I am sure it will be the most difficult thing I ever have to endure.  But at the end of that last push, I will no longer be pregnant.  And the only thing standing between me and my old self is the road to recovery.

**I really debated not posting this...but I KNOW I'm not the only woman who feels this way and I feel that by perpetuating the myth that pregnancy is wonderful I am doing all those who feel they ARE the only ones to hate pregnancy a disservice.