I’ve recently had days where I’ve hardly recognized myself. Not from a physical aspect, although that’s most definitely changed too since I’ve gained 25 pounds with this pregnancy. It’s a far cry from the 80 that I gained with Henry, but it still manages to make my face look chunky and rounder than normal.
Still… it’s not the weight gain of which I speak. It is the change in personality. I should say the mood swings. Holy Hannah I don’t remember feeling like this last time. At the drop of the proverbial hat, I go from regular ole me to a snarling, teeth-bearing version and it’s not pretty. Sometimes it’s all I can do to not yell at someone or not start crying at something they’ve said.
It’s particularly hard when you have a three-year old toddler who doesn’t understand the hormonal changes that accompany pregnancy. Or a 50+ year old husband, for that matter. Who can blame them? I hardly understand the changes myself.
I think part of it is my overall feeling of malaise. I know the end is near (five weeks officially – although I’m 1 cm dilated and feeling contractions every other day so hopefully it will be sooner) but it doesn’t make it easier. My back aches almost constantly which makes getting around challenging. My intestines are being squashed as we speak and it is causing unmentionable symptoms that make life, well, interesting. That coupled with being tired all the time and with feeling like I’m outgrowing my clothes, and I generally just don’t feel well.
That’s enough to make anyone grumpy, right?
I’m sure that when this is all said and done and we’re holding that sweet baby girl in our arms it will be worth it. Until then, I’ll just keep trying to find myself, my ‘real’ self, when I look in the mirror. I know she’s in there somewhere. And I’ll keep thanking my patient husband and wonderful son for putting up with me in the meantime.