You guys, thank you so much for your kind words of encouragement. Seriously, I feel so much better and way less crazy.
My dog? Not so much.
Friday, we were snowed in and I didn't go to work - we got about six inches of snow. Don't laugh at me, Carolyn. That's a lot for Dallas! So, all day Maya and I hung out at the house. I painted my toes, watched some tv and enjoyed the blissful silence because those days are numbered.
I hadn't heard the dog for a while and that's never a good thing so I got up to check on her. I walked in to this.
My dog is so weird.
The pregnancy gods have smiled on me. I will be 30 weeks tomorrow and I'm doing okay. I haven't gained that much weight (20 lbs I think), the cankles are nowhere in sight, my skin is holding out and I can still see my cheekbones. I'm carrying kind of low but all out in front so I haven't had any trouble breathing, sitting is only mildly uncomfortable and the shots have become routine. They still suck and I still hate them but I don't think that much about them once I've done it.
But you know where pregnancy is full-out kicking my ass? Where it's positively making me miserable?
My emotions. The hormones. Oh my goodness the hormones.
I haven't been writing a lot lately because I've been trying not to give in. Besides, it would really be nothing but angry vileness that probably wouldn't make a lot of sense and most of all, it's not me. I'm not this person and I hate that I feel like I can't get a hold of myself. But I can no more stop this than I can, I don't know, the need to eat? It's not as imperative as breathing but I can't control it nonetheless.
I go through about thirty shades of Sybil daily, but it's usually anger. The worse thing is, it's not entirely irrational anger. I don't get upset when we're out of apple juice, I get angry when I feel like Drew is impatient with me because I'm not moving as fast as I normally do. We were in the mall the other day and we were trying to hurry because they were going to close and I just can't move that fast anymore - I get out of breath really easily and I've been having Braxton-Hicks that are nothing to worry about but I don't prefer to have them regardless. I felt like he was getting impatient with me because I couldn't walk as fast as he could and I wanted to kick him in the shins because I'm freakin pregnant, how dare you get annoyed that I can't move that fast!
I had a doctor's appointment on Wednesday. I called the office all day Tuesday to see if they were going to be open because we've had nasty weather here and I got a busy signal all day. I sent an email to her assistant asking if they were going to be open and never got a reply. I was to see my specialist that same morning so we went ahead and braved the ice because they did call to tell me they were open. After the specialist, we went over to my OB and the office door was locked. We called again, busy signal. We waited and finally left. This morning, *I* called and they answered and were like, 'oh yeah we were closed, didn't you hear?' I was like, no bitch I didn't 'hear' because you didn't call me, and why am *I* calling you to reschedule? Shouldn't you be calling me, the patient because you didn't bother to call me and let me know that you weren't going to be in? They were like, 'well you can come in today.' I actually said, "No, I can't come in today because I'm at work." All extra-bitchy like.
This isn't me. I'm not this person.
I need to not stress myself out - the baby feels it, the baby knows and I have to do better. I just feel like I can't. I feel like no one has my best interest at heart and therefore I have to be on my guard at all times, just like a freakin animal! I feel like if I relax, they're (whoever they are) are going to pounce and pump me full of drugs and cut me open and take my baby away from me.
Now, if that's not prime candidacy for crazy-town I don't know what is. I shouldn't even be writing this. See, this is why I haven't been writing. Craziness y'all.
Oh and look at that - now I'm crying. Perfect.
This isn't rational, I am fully aware of this. Perhaps more aware than anyone else, which is why it's so hard. It's like I can observe myself acting this way but I can't stop.
Watch, I can do it now.
Drew has not done near the preparation that I have for this. I don't expect him to - just like the movie says, "Oh my god, how did women give birth before baby books?" This is going to happen how it's going to happen and whether or not he reads a book won't have an impact on any of it. It doesn't matter if he reads zero or 100 baby books - the baby is going to be born either way.
See - nice and rational.
However, that doesn't stop me from wishing he would because it would give me the confidence that he will be better prepared when I go into labor, that he won't be running around frantic or freak out to see me in pain. That if he read a book or two, he wouldn't look at me like I've grown two heads and roll his eyes when I start crying about our daughter getting picked on in school. The rational side of me knows that her school days are a long way away and I'll deal with that when it happens but the pregnant side of me isn't really interested in hearing it and would really just like some sincere reassurance, no matter that you said the same thing just yesterday.
I hate feeling dismissed. I can't go into the full details on that because even though I'm irrational and emotional, even I know where to draw the line. I can't be outright hurtful and I know everyone is doing their best.
I'm just so scared. I've been trying to be positive, to tell myself that everything is going to be okay but I'm not doing that great a job and it would be so great to hear it from someone else. I have the facts, I have the information, I need someone to speak to my heart. I need someone else to tell me it's going to be okay. I need to hear it outside my head. Because I'm scared.
I just want to be me again.
PS - I'm not alone. At least there's that.
I feel like the Incredible Hulk. I feel my molecules changing, I'm becoming different. It was subtle at first and I wasn't sure what was happening, but I'm pretty sure now.
I'm turning into a Mama Bear.
I already love my daughter. But it's not the fairy-tale, unicorn and rainbow, happy-go-lucky love. It's the fierce, violent, I-will-rip-you-from-limb-to-limb-if-a-hair-on-her-head-is-disturbed kind of love. It's the 'I will destroy your world if you look sideways at her' kind of love. Seriously, it's kind of scary to me. Because I feel that way towards everyone - everyone.
My parents have been joking with me, that they will take care of the baby right after she's born and they'll give her back when she's about six or eight months old. It was cute once - aww, what devoted grandparents they're going to be! And then they kept on, getting more elaborate, talking about setting up video chats and how they would email me daily updates. Then I started getting pissed. No, not pissed - Destructive. It got to the point that I told my parents that I understood that they were joking but if I caught a look in their eyes, they would never see their grandchild for the rest of their lives. And I meant it with every molecule. Thankfully, they stopped joking.
I've been lucky so far - no one has touched my stomach without my consent. No strangers have approached me but the feeling I get if I'm not sure is downright primal. I feel the surge of adrenaline, the deep-seated desire to protect, at all costs no matter what and no matter from whom. My heart doesn't melt at the thought of her just yet, but the protective fire in my belly is burning full-force.
I get it now, when mothers say they will die and/or kill for their children. I get that so much and the power behind that is kind of unsettling.
*here's where I go a little hippie*
Everyone knows how they say there is no fiercer animal on the planet than a mother protecting her young? Y'all seriously, I feel like an animal! Yes, I go to work, I sit at a desk, I still look like a normal human being, but maaaaan, there is a beast growing in me along with this baby. A Mama Beast. A MOTHER.
Additionally, I understand why animals go to a secluded place with no disturbances in order to give birth. I feel that same urge. I want to build a nest, settle in and bring my child to the world with my own hands, under my own steam and I sure as hell don't want anyone to take her from me. Like, ever.
I feel it too when people refer to my baby as theirs, as in 'how's my baby doing?' I know it's harmless and it's only happened a couple of times, but the quickness with which I have to bite my tongue is unsettling. I want to grab their collars, get in their faces and with deadly seriousness, say 'This is MY baby.'
Metaphorically, of course. I haven't actually done or said anything to anyone - I simply smile and nod.
I'm civilized, but only barely.
I've read about this, but only anecdotally and I don't think they've done any peer-reviewed studies on 'Women who Turn Into Animals at Pregnancy.' I certainly didn't think it would happen to me - I've been wrapped up in cankle prevention and when's the next meal. I wasn't watching out for the Primal Jungle Woman to inhabit my body.
But oh my goodness, this is so real and so unexpected! I feel a tiny bit out of control, not terribly so and again, you wouldn't know by looking at me.
Unless you go to touch my stomach, make a reference to taking my child from me, or threaten to invade my nest.
What is happening to me? Where is this chapter in the books?
