Tuesday, July 18, 2006

Mean Low Pregnancy Blues

I loved being pregnant with Brendan. My morning sickness was mild. I had just been laid off my job, so all I had to do was keep house and read and relax and enjoy being pregnant.

This pregnancy is so different. The morning sickness was miserable. I had to start wearing maternity clothes at 8 weeks. And now, I'm emotional. Crazy emotional. Clueless. And clumsy. Not in the "your center of gravity has changed so you fall down a lot way," but in the "drop everything you pick up, close your hand in the door" kind of way.

I can't think straight. I'm confused. I'm so moody. I cried today because another kid didn't want to play with Brendan. I cried because I thought about how disappointed Brendan will be if we have a girl and how it would be so sad if he never gets to have a brother. I cried because when I told Scott that I was having round ligament pain he commented that not only was I getting stretched, but that it was happening in a different way than before. Those are just the instances I remember. There were probably others.

I just don't remember being this moody and emotional the last time. I was like this for weeks post-partum, but not during the actual pregnancy. It's damned annoying.

The thing I hate most is when I feel like everything is closing in on me and I lash out in anger. On Sunday I completely lost my temper with Scott and yelled at him. I never yell at my husband. We may have disagreements, but we've always been able to talk without raised voices or anger. And the thing that pushed me over the edge? His cleaning up the mess in our freezer where a Coke exploded after I left it in there too long. I put it in to get cold and totally forgot about it. Came back a few hours later and found the mess, but didn't have time to clean it. When Scott saw it, he immediately started cleaning it up. I yelled at him angrily, asking him what he thought he was doing. His response was, "Cleaning up your mess."

Of course, that's exactly why I was angry. I felt guilty about making the mess and didn't want him to do my dirty work. And it would have been so simple to say that in a nice way. Instead, I told him he was making a bigger mess by getting it on the floor I had just mopped. Of course, he was planning to clean it up, but I was being a bitch for no reason. And I hate that. It's so not who I am.

I hope this emotional roller coaster slows down soon so I can climb off. In the meantime, I guess I need to figure out when to just step away and keep my mouth shut.

Easier said than done, apparently.

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