I don’t know if it’s the heat, or my hormones, or just common life stressors, but this week has been really trying for me. If I’m not hating everything, I’m crying. I just feel so… exhausted.
Things I used to be able to handle, like car trouble, or someone cancelling an appointment, or waking up to a cat vomiting at 4 am, I just can’t.handle.now. Exhausted is the only term that truly sums up how I’m feeling, and it’s affecting All The Things.
My body feels like crap. I feel large, and dumpy, and one thousand degrees. I sweat constantly, so my early pregnancy glow has turned into vicious pregnancy acne (I had a feeling my perfect skin was too good to be true!). I feel unattractive, and all pore-clog-y and not at all like my usual self.
My pregnancy insomnia that was at one point a source of productivity and inspiration has now just made me insane. It used to be that I could “make up sleep” at a later point in the day… losing 5 hours at night could be handled by a 45 minute nap around noon. Now? Losing 5 hours at night means I am so tired during the day that I am quite overtired and unable to sleep. And if I go to bed early that night and sleep in, it does nothing to counteract the insomnia from the night before. It seems that lost sleep is now actually lost and cannot be found in any amount of napping.
All of the above makes me super cranky, which could normally be dealt with by eating but now considering ALL I DO IS EAT, food is apparently not the answer. The crankiness is then elevated by the intense amount of schoolwork I now face as this semester comes to a close in a few weeks, and life in general. And I left a piece of tomato out on the counter overnight, and now have a fruit fly issue to deal with. I so cannot handle that at this moment, that for the last few hours I have been solely living off of the snack pile on the family room coffee table that has been slowly growing. I’m down to potato chips and bottled water and intend to continue avoiding the kitchen until I’ve cried in the shower for at least 10 minutes.
I didn’t want this blog to be a place of negativity and I in no way want to be a Debbie Downer, but this is real life. My pregnancy isn’t all “yummy” and “sacred” and sitting around in sisterhood realizing my divine feminine, though a few moments of it have been really wonderful. Sometimes it’s really hard, and painful, and a period of transition and adjustment that I just cannot wrap my head around. I always thought that because I am a birthworker, I would be a naturally glorious pregnant woman, and people would just bask in the power of my magnificent body, and I would face life without fear. At this point, I would consider not weeping at Fancy Feast commercials a small victory.
SORT OF UNRELATED: I found a blog that intrigues me so much, I borrowed the picture at the top of this post from it. It’s called Shan’s Shenanigans and I intend to spend at least part of this weekend reading about her past pregnancy insanity and saying things like “I KNOW, RIGHT?!?” You might like it, too.