End of Days

I remember the first trimester. Feeling quite hungover, extremely tired, and pretty emotional. I remember it fondly. Wait. What? Yeah, you heard right because compared to the third trimester, the first one is a friggin' picnic.

LOL

The past few weeks have sucked. I've been home, which I am ever so thankful for (I had to leave work early due to some gnarly contractions and the fact that I wasn't getting enough rest and could barely function with my increasing loss of sanity), and while that definitely helps, it still sucks. I never expected any of this to be easy - c'mon, I'm not delusional - but Holy Hell, I'm ready to have this kid and feel like a normal human being again. 

Last week I could have sworn that Sully was on his way. 3-4 hours of nonstop cramping and time-able contractions, and I was thrilled. Yeah, I'm at that point where I welcome the pain with open arms. Seriously. Bring. It. On. However, as soon as I was getting ready to call my doc at 3 AM, everything started subsiding and my hopes fizzled into the early morning that I've come to know so well.

The past few days have been interesting. Really bad cramping since Saturday, along with what I can only assume are contractions, in addition to being a complete insomniatic psycho. My legs have been giving out on me, my head is constantly aching, and nausea has been paying me a visit. I've been up and wide awake as early as 1:30 AM… completely restless and unable to sit still.

Last night was another time that I thought "this is it." My lower back was radiating pain all through my hips, legs, and eventually into my tummy. It was brutal. I could barely walk, but I wasn't having that tightening like I would with a contraction. At least not consistently. SO confusing. 

They always say "you'll just know" which annoys the living hell out of me because, really, that's so unhelpful. I don't want to be told that "I'll know," I want you to freakin' tell me what it feels like so I'm not driving myself crazy by worrying about every little twinge or pain, which are coming all too commonly these days. Then I get the "everyone's different" routine… You may feel a lot of pain. You may not. You should know when you're having contractions. Some women don't (a little confusing when you are previously told that "you'll just know"). This may be nothing. Or it could be something HUGE. Jeeeeeeezum. 

#thoroughlyannoyedwithallthiswishywashyinconsistentinformation

This morning, my back pain has leveled out to a dull ache, but I totally feel like I'm coming down with something. I don't want to move. Sitting here to type is proving to expel a lot of effort, but I really, really, really, really needed to vent. My pregnancy has been fairly easy compared to what a lot of women go through. I know I'm lucky. I'm lucky to have had no serious complications, and I'm lucky to be able to have a baby when so many have trouble. But this doesn't mean I'm not allowed to get frustrated. I'm not ungrateful. But still…. Being this constantly uncomfortable and worrying if "this is it" the past few weeks has been completely draining.

I'm super emotional. Grumpy. Moody. Overwhelmed. A lot of things do it to me these days. Just going to pee and not being able to get off the toilet without grabbing on to something makes me emotional. I guess I'm just ready to feel like myself. 

I was thinking last night of all the things I can't wait to be able to do again. A lot of them were things I took for granted when it was just me in this body. I can't wait to:

1). Be able to put my shoes on without feeling like I'm suffocating or just ran a marathon.

2). Sneeze, laugh, or cough without pissing myself.

3). To get off the couch or out of bed without having to give myself a pep talk first. "I think I can!"

4). Paint my toes.

5). Walk without looking like I'm trying to impersonate a penguin.

6). Fill up my pellet stove (40 lb bags are a "no no").

7). Run.

8). Pick things up off the floor.

9). Sleep on my stomach or my back.

10). Have a friggin' drink - I need one.

I love Sully to pieces, and when it gets really overwhelming, I think about his little smiling face that was up on the ultrasound screen last week. He totally smiled. I know it's all worth it. This is something I've known since this all began. I knew it wouldn't be all glowing butterflies and rainbow unicorns, but it can get to be a bit much, ya know?

I've heard "it's all worth it" a million times, but I really don't need reminding. I know people just want to make you feel better by trying to help you see the light at the end of the tunnel, but sometimes you just want to bitch about things for a few minutes, get it out of your system, take a deep breath, and move on. That's really all this post was about. I just needed to throw a little tantrum and now I feel much better - mentally, anyway. Thanks!

Cheers!