I have no right to complain. I'll say that first. But, I'm going to. This pregnancy has been HARD. It is double the pain and exhaustion. I was diagnosed with gestational diabetes this time and it is a pain in the butt (no, I don't have to take insulin shots---yet). I have to write down all that I eat (it will help me get prepared for Weight Watchers again) and stick myself 4x/day. But, I am going to play the optimist too: it is short-term and if the result is 2 healthy babies, then it is MORE than worth it.
My worst feelings throughout this pregnancy have been my lack of patience--especially with Owen. Once he is gone to day care or school, I could cry because I lost patience with him. He cries more these days when things don't go his way and I get SO frustrated. I raise my voice and this morning I took his cheeks in my hand and made him look at me while I told him to stop crying. I feel terrible that I am not myself for him--that he has to put up with a cranky, uncomfortable mom. Getting him dressed is so challenging these days. Yes, he should probably dress himself, but then I'd be waiting til 5 PM to get out of the house. So, I try to bend over my enormous girth and get his clothes on with very little cooperation on his part.
I hate that I am all sour grapes and can't just enjoy this pregnancy. But it hurts!! Every move I make reminds me that my pubic bones are screaming. It feels like I have ridden a horse across the country and back.
How insensitive of me--I kind of started my blog when we were having TROUBLE getting pregnant. I read a lot of fertility blogs (or should I say infertility). I have no right to complain when I have two babies inside me. Yet I do.
I am not looking for sympathy. It is just hard. Then, I think about the monumental task of parenting all 3 children in a few months and a whole other bucket-full of doubts creep in.
I know children are resilient, but I should be a bigger, better person. I am an adult and I should be able to treat my 3-year old respectfully all the time regardless of whether I feel like crap. The hormones are raging, but he doesn't understand that.
I know I'll make it--one day at a time, right? Just wish I could take back every little moment that I lose patience with my son. He deserves so much better.
Any suggestions on how to fill this empty tank are welcome. I have less than two months left (c-section is scheduled for January 4). I hope they come before that, but we will handle what we get.
