Yes, I'm still here. I'm just struggling to keep up with life.
As the title of this post indicates, I am 16 weeks into this pregnancy. My first and much desired pregnancy. I've spent my entire adult life dreaming about not just having kids, but being pregnant. I imagined I'd be one of those perky women wearing cute clothes and basking in the glory of pregnancy.
Ha! Reality, you suck. In truth, this has been the single most unpleasant experience of my life. I have no idea how or why anyone would intentionally do this more than once. And that's coming from someone who never, ever had any interest in having an only child. The constant nausea, the exhaustion, the getting up to pee all night long, the extreme burping, and now feeling like an over-filled balloon about to pop. I'm well-aware it only gets worse from here, so don't feel the need to educate me.
And on top of all the physical discomfort, there's the emotional loss of self. I can't do many of the things that made up my daily routine: reading, writing, and walking. Nope, no can do. Every time I try going for a walk, I end up feeling a thousand times worse later in the day. Plus, I'm short-tempered and demanding, or as my husband says, mean.
I hope that after the baby comes I remember who I am beneath all this yuckiness. Of course, then I will be so sleep-deprived that I probably won't care who I am.
(Please don't lecture me on how I should feel blessed. I am 38 years old. We tried for 10 cycles before one took. This is just where I am at mentally and I think it's OK for me to admit it's not all sunshine and roses.)
Oh, and it's a BOY.