Tonight, like all nights, I am typing this through bleary eyes so forgive any grammatical or spelling errors and what will probably be a choppy and disorganized post. I am also over being pregnant. Mind you, it is waaaaay to early for baby girl to make her appearance and I honestly don't want her to show up until her scheduled appointment on August 1. But yeeeesssshh.
I am now 33 weeks and 2 days along and I feel HUGE. I have gained just over 30 lbs all of which is in a tight, perfectly round ball in my belly. Pic from last weekend:
I feel huge and while I know I have no right to complain about anything (because I did this to myself), I am so effing tired. My legs hurt, my back is killing me, I haven't slept for more than 2 hours at a time for weeks. I have the most gawd awful GERD that sends me shooting upright in bed in the middle of the night so I don't aspirate on or spray acid everywhere. I wake up to charleyhorses in both calves every morning and sometimes I get them in my feet which is a new experience in torture. I am either constipated or have the most horrific diarrhea, so trips to the bathroom are now an annoyance. I can't sit comfortably for longer than 5-10 minutes and I am beyond annoyed at my clothing options (lack thereof). I spend ALL FREAKING DAY hiking up my pants. I can't wear anything with a panel because I'm so round, it just rolls down and I hate having something stretched across my skin in this heat. I have no earthly clue what to do about my wardrobe issues for the court trial I have to be in starting next week. I'm getting to the point where most of my tops don't cover my belly anymore. I'm supposed to be in a suit, but a) I don't have one and don't have the time (would have to have it specially tailored to fit my size 0 ass/hips) or $$ (hundreds of dollars) to shell out for one only to wear it for such a short amount of time; b) It's been in the 90s-100s and it's too damn hot to wear a suit. Also? I DO NOT WEAR DRESSES. EVER. I do not wear open toed shoes, flip flops or sandals. I HATE feet and find exposed feet and toes, not only inappropriate in the workplace, but totally unhygienic and dirty. My legs are sticks and I have horrible varicose veins now. I also can't bend over good enough to shave safely. Yeah...I could go on and on and on about the clothing frustrations, but I will spare you.
Having a willful and stubborn 2 year old who seems to be fighting some sort of snot virus every 2-3 weeks, which he always shares with me, has made this a lot tougher than I was expecting.
My house is a disaster, I have nothing done in preparation for baby girl's arrival. The kids' room (they will share for a while) is lucky to even have furniture in it, but there is absolutely no decoration or organization to be found in it though. I just don't have the time or energy. I get the laundry done, but it never gets folded or put away. The dishwasher gets run, but the dishes never get put away and the dirty ones stay in the sink until the washer is empty and the sink is full. If social services were to visit my home, they'd probably question my ability to handle two kids :`( I did manage to bleach out the bathtub tonight and spray the weeds in the front yard. I finally gave up mowing the yards today and had a friend's son do it. I just can't physically do it anymore. It's too much and too hot. What bothers me the most, is not being able to do things and knowing I should ask for help, but I just can't bring myself to do it. If I do imply or say something about maybe having some help with something, my mom, who is short on empathy and understanding, loves to twist that little thorn and say things like, "Well, I don't know how I managed with you and being pregnant with your sister. We all managed somehow, so can you." Which always makes me want to scream, "You didn't have to EVERYTHING and do it alone and work 50+ hours a week!" Which I know would lead to retorts about why didn't I just find a man and get married, which would then lead me to say something snide back about how my dad is a saint for putting up with her and yadda yadda yadda and feelings would get hurt (always mine) and nothing gets accomplished and I feel even more worthless and down about not being able to do everything.
That brings me to the panic about being able to manage two on my own. It's in full force. I try to remember that I won't be feeling this physically miserable and trying to handle them both. There will come a time when I will be able to bend over, carry things and pick things up. I will get back to being physically capable again. I will not be pregnant forever and that time is coming up quickly. VERY quickly. Like in 6 weeks at the latest. Probably earlier. OMG.
And now I need to go eat something.
Oh, and if one more person asks if I've thought about names, I AM GOING TO STRANGLE THEM. That has become a huge peeve of mine. I don't know why it bothers me so much, but it does. For the record, I am not discussing names with ANYONE. I just don't feel like it. So there.