Pity Party of One with a Side of Attention!!
I need a sign: Unless you have something incredibly nice, uplifting and that can in no way shape or form be taken the wrong way to say- then shut it and move on.
Basically my hormones are hitting with a vengeance. I have
never felt more unstable and just ready to explode, cry or flip out at any
given moment. Yes, I know it’s all normal and just part of the joys of
pregnancy- well I have too much going on to handle this little piece of joy!
Husbands should receive a handbook at this point in the pregnancy, telling them
that everything they do should center around their wife. I should be the focus of you right now- not
your job, not your mom, you rcomputer, not your truck/car/four-wheeler/garden- ME. I need attention.
I need a back-rub, a warm bath, reassurance that you realize I am going through
a ton emotionally and physically and I am at the end of my rope.
You know that squirmy little baby coming out of me in a few
weeks? Well right now I am the preparation for it- I need everything. Yes,
selfish and self-centered- but this is my pity party and I will cry scream yell
and misinterpret if the situation so calls for it. I want to come home and not
have to figure out what to make for dinner…. Then make it by myself and eat
alone. Then proceed to go to bed being uncomfortable listening to yet another
Family Guy or King of the Hill that I could probably recite in my sleep. It
would be nice if I was offered a drink (non-alcoholic of course- thank you
little man!), or a bowl of ice cream. I have two feet shoved into my ribs and lungs, hands
and a small person moving about inside me- no control of my ever shrinking bladder
and I can’t even get a good look at the sucker because he seems to think the
lower he goes the comfier it gets.
Yes, appointment yesterday, while successful and reassuring that
we still do have a healthy growing baby boy- was somewhat heart breaking. He
has slipped even further into my pelvis and the only picture we could get was
something that you have to view cross eyed and drunk to make out the very
blurry profile. The tech tried- and I know she was disappointed to yet again
not be able to get any good pics- but since dad was there, I was really hoping
to see something a little better. Like maybe seeing him in 3D, an actual baby-
not just a blob or a skeletal outline, would make something click and he would
realize- wow, we really have a kid in there. Wishful thinking, I know it will
happen when it happens.
I have his mother telling me, “yeah it will change him- but
not until the kid is walking”- thank-you for that sound advice, so now, not
only is it the worst holiday ever (see previous post), but my husband won’t appreciate
our child until he walks!?
I make the obligatory announcement on FB that all is well so
the aunts and uncles, grandma and grandpa can stay up to date on everything-
and I get the comment that our son is the same size as someone else’s grandson
that was born prematurely- thanks for that worry, I wasn’t freaked out enough!
Or that since the tech doing the ultrasound said he was tall and skinny he is
just like dad. At one point in my life I was tall and skinny- and now I feel
like a blimp- mainly due to my new resident, but also since I married my
husband, we are the same height and while he may (under normal circumstances)
weigh a little less than me, it is still something that is not fun to hear.
Especially after watching his little eyes pop out when he saw me hit the scale
yesterday, and then the comment of “yeah I saw you are tipping the scales a bit”
leaks out when I am getting out of the shower later that night… really dude-
you need to figure out that never EVER under ANY circumstance is before, during
or near shower time a good time to mention anything regarding the weight or
size of your wife.
So- add to that that last night someone who was once my
friend- and has since unfriended me because I was pregnant (while she was too,
I may add)- announced that she had a healthy baby boy via c-section. His name
is a name that was on my list of names I liked for a boy and he is cute and
healthy and here. She had ten million pictures of him in 2D, 3D, and 4D, along
with video and a slew of family members and a husband at her beck and call. Ten
Thousand FB followers constantly cheering her on and praying and sending good
wishes, and it just ticked me off. Yes, again, I know, completely irrational-
but pregnancy and rational are two things not found in the same sentence… or
universe! So she gets her wish of a healthy baby boy and could see him the
whole time and dad was at darn near every appointment and cough, and I can’t
get one decent profile in 2D or an offering of ice cream! It could have made me
cry. For so many reasons: hormones being the main culprit, someone having a
healthy kid in general, having a good picture of her healthy kid, and honestly-
because I was completely blind-sided by the fact that I was not good enough to
be her friend any more, and she would be the one other person that would know
what I was going through or what to expect being high risk. I hate upsetting
people, it has been a curse my whole life, I don’t like telling people no- I
don’t like being the bad guy- and somehow, I pissed this girl off and didn’t
even get the decency of an explanation! I don’t do rejection well.
On another note- I am hungry all the time- but nothing ever
sounds good. My stomach gets full so fast and then thirty minutes later I am
hungry again. Then I eat and feel guilty for eating- I try and eat healthy- and
let’s face it a human can only eat so many carrots or cheese sticks in a day
before starting to feel the oompa loompa tint set in!
The husband has stopped letting the dog out in the morning
when he goes to work, I think because she doesn’t whine- which is fine, except
that then I have to find a way to get my immobile butt onto the floor to get
her out and clean her cage for the day. By the time that adventure is over my
knees feel like they have been hit with a bat and I am breathing like I am
finishing the Chicago Marathon!
 |
| My little pain in the butt |
This weekend, I called in help and got the décor for baby’s room all up- I am still missing a section of wall hangings that are coming from Australia, and will hopefully arrive soon. I went to open up a border I had ordered and it was sold as “new” and as “removable.” Well I opened the package up, and it was cut in three sections, with characters obviously missing and it was plain old wall paper border- NOT the removable sticker I thought it would be. In order to do no damage to the house we didn’t paint or want to put anything up that would require painting over.
Very ticked, and hot- since the
wall paper discover came after spending about an hour trying to peel off the
non-existent backing- I left negative feedback to the seller. They then replied
that they were mad and I should have asked for a refund- I am hormonal- I just
wanted the stupid wall stuff up, I threw away the plastic it came in, the last
thing I wanted was to start a war with you over getting my money back for a
faulty product- you just deal with your negative feedback Miss New Bern, NC!
So, again, someone upset with me… see how well I deal with rejection above. |
| Crib and book shelf to be arranged a little better at a later date... |
So that’s the pity party- take your favor on
your way out the door and go hug a pregnant person, tell them they look great
and offer some ice cream or gummy worms… I am counting down the minutes until I
can make the trek home to my little puppy who inevitably needs her cage cleaned.
Your normally scheduled non- attention-pity me- updates will soon follow! Thanks for your time
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