I have been waking up on the wrong side of the pregnancy pillow this week.
I am crabby and mean. But I am also needy and sad.
Within the space of five minutes, I complained to The Husband: I am so lonely. Nobody calls me anymore or wants to hang out with me. My friends don’t ask how I’m doing. They don’t care. Nobody cares. When I send pregnancy photos to my family, they don’t comment on them or say I look pretty. And the last time I sent a photo to my sister she said it looks like I’m about to cry. And why did I have to give up an hour this week? I want it back! With interest! And look — salsa fell off the chip and onto my big tummy and taxes are due AND OH GOD EVERYTHING, ALL AT ONCE.
Then I cried.
It is lovely being married to me right now, I’m sure.
Are these hormones? Is that what’s happening here? Because fuck hormones. I hate feeling this uneven and irritable. This is not me.
On a lighter note, spring has waltzed into the desert, bringing crazy cactus blooms and pastel sunsets and letters from President Clinton. Those are good things, even though I feel a little too delicate to fully enjoy them right now.
Here’s what else is up this week:
Baby: Supposedly the size of a grapefruit, but I no longer believe my iPhone app on this matter. So you’re telling me this baby is the size of a grapefruit? But he is also 12 inches long?
When’s the last time you saw a damn grapefruit that was as tall as a schoolkid’s ruler?
Never. That’s when.
Cravings: Tomato-based foods. Marinara. Salsa. Tomato-basil soup.
Body: Bigger. I guess this is what happens.
Also I am starting to feel the limitations of pregnancy, and that has been difficult to accept. Normally when a person works out each day, the reward is that the routine gets easier, your muscles take longer to fatigue, you feel the results. That’s one of the basic principles of physiology: The more you exercise, the more your body wants to be in motion.
Pregnancy is the exact opposite. For me, anyway. Lately I feel like I am fighting with myself. Each day the effort is more daunting, and laziness is more seductive. I want to rest. But also know that’s not what’s best for me or the baby — I need to maintain some level of fitness.
So I still walk 2-3 miles each morning, and I’ve been doing prenatal yoga. I took my bike out for a slow 10-mile ride. I went for a hike with my husband, even though I couldn’t make it anywhere close to the end; I had to admit defeat and turn back down the mountain, wheezing the whole descent.
Maybe in the coming days I’ll try to tackle that mountain again. Maybe this time I’ll even make it to the top.
2 Comments
I love you Maggie! And you do look so beautiful! Keep up the great posts! I love hearing from you every week!! You are an amazing person! You’ll always be so special to me!
I definitely experienced periods of great tiredness during my pregnancies, as well as stochastic moods (heads up: the second day postpartum was 24 hours of tears for me, also. My journals from that time are full of, “I don’t even know why I’m crying, but I can’t stop.” Of course, I still have days like that, and I’m 4.5 years postpartum).
Today I read a post by a friend who’s pregnant with her third (she blogs at Adventures of Lactating Girl), and she mentioned being tired and discovering she was iron deficient. Thought I’d pass that notion along, in case that was a factor for you, too.
Enjoy your grapefruit baby! I wonder what fruit will be next? Is there anything between pomelo and watermelon?