"It must be a girl". I wish I had a dollar for every time I've heard this so far this pregnancy. Apparently because this one is so vastly different from the first it must be a girl. Since I am so sick it must be a girl. My doctor even went so far as to say that many women who are pregnant with girls have what are called "ugly pregnancies" because of the additional hormones - ugly because they are physically harder on the mother and they can wreak havoc with how we look.
My first pregnancy was pretty easy but this one has been pretty awful so far. I'm nauseous constantly, even throwing up sometimes, I've had wicked headaches, my hips and back already hurt, my skin is freaking out, I'm a new level of exhausted, and throw some constipation into the mix just to round it all out. I know these are all normal parts of pregnancy but I avoided most of them with Ryder and didn't have the rest until late in the 3rd trimester. Here I am at 14 weeks wondering how on earth I'm going to survive the next 6 months. I'm waiting for that magic 2nd trimester, the one where all of a sudden you are supposed to feel great and have ton of energy. Or if I can't feel good, I'd like to at least look presentable. I have psoriasis and it was pretty non-existent with Ryder. Now I have it all over the place, including my face which is somewhere that I typically don't get it. So not only are my knees and elbows flakier than usual but my scalp is practically peeling off my head and my face is all read and blotchy. The best part is the medicines are all steroid based and not recommended for use during pregnancy. Score.
I am so worn out, mentally and physically that I am starting to really resent this baby which of course only makes me feel worse about everything. I somehow manage to get through work every day (yup, those famous 65 hour weeks during the season) and collapse every night and most of the weekend. Mike ends up with most of the housework and Ryder watches a lot more movies than I am comfortable with but I feel too much like a zombie to really be able to do anything about it. My son eats healthy meals, gets naps, is bathed daily, has clean clothes and we read at least 3 books a night when I am home to put him to bed. But I know he would love to play outside or go to a park or have play dates and I honestly shut down just at the thought of trying to make any of that happen. I tell myself that he gets lots of stimulation and playtime at school and its okay to be lazy on the weekends but I don't 100% believe it. At least he gets unlimited cuddles on the couch or in mommy's bed pretty much on demand these days. Poor Mike must be wondering what happened to his wife. I can think of one true meal that I've cooked in the past few weeks and we've had sex once since finding out I was pregnant - it was terrible for me as I was trying not to throw up the whole time. He knew it was a pity lay so I doubt he really got much out of it either. On our nights off together I'm usually asleep by 9 or we are fighting about something (mostly how little I'm doing these days) so the honeymoon is most definitely over folks.
All of this leaves me feeling tremendously guilty. We really wanted to add to our family but weren't ready to do it just yet and part of me is not really happy about being pregnant again. It is really hard for me to say that because this baby is truly loved and wanted and we know it is another miracle since I wasn't even supposed to get pregnant in the first place. But I can't help feeling frustrated that In the last 2 years my body has only been my own for less than 6 months. Between pregnancy and breastfeeding I spent 18 months as slave to Ryder in some form or another and now I'm doing it all over again. I had just started feeling good again - working out again, fitting into my old clothes, sleeping normally, and actually wanting some sort of social life because I had some spare energy. The separation anxiety was under control and Ryder was finally healthy (although he still gets a daily breathing treatment, 14 months and counting) and I was at a point where I was missing my non-mommy friends and wanting to get out once in a while. Mike and I were planning our honeymoon and maybe buying a bigger house and I feel like it all just got derailed.
As I said, I have a hard time admitting these feelings because I know how lucky I am to be having another baby. I know the pain of thinking you are infertile and that it may never happen to you. I know the fear that once you are pregnant, that something could go terribly wrong because it wasn't supposed to happen in the first place. And I've mourned with friends who've experienced the tragedy of losing a pregnancy. So I tell myself that I should be grateful and excited and happy about this experience and make the best of it. Which only makes me feel worse.
I've started to wonder if maybe there are some hormonal things going on or if I'm not just plain old depressed because it can't be normal to be this unhappy. But that terrifies me too after my long and negative history with antidepressants. I guess I'm just not in a great place right now. My husband says I will get through it and that he loves and supports me. My mom says it is normal and that I should give myself a break - of course, this from someone who wasn't happy about either of her pregnancies, but still. My non-mommy friends don't get it at all. I really think that if I could just go a few days of getting sleep and not feeling physically ill I could get in a better place mentally. And I've learned that if (God forbid) I ever get cancer or some other terrible illness I will suck at it - I will not be one of those people who everyone says is so gracious and strong. I will be a big fat mess.
Boy or girl, (because plenty of people were miserable and sick and had boys, even the Duchess Kate!) I know that I will love this baby and that it will be a welcome addition to our family. I know all the pain and sickness and misery will be worth it. I just hope I can survive these next 6 months with dignity and grace and with my sanity in tact.