Now that I'm approaching the end, I can't deny how strangely manageable these past seven months have been. But I'm also afraid that these easy breezy, beautiful (#covergirl) months come at the expense of 24 hours (or more) of hell. They say you forget...but I'll believe it when I see it.
In the beginning of my pregnancy, I suffered from nausea that persuaded me to avoid consuming most anything, but I was (and have been) fortunate enough to lack vomiting as a symptom of my changing body. In the middle, I was able to eat more, but experienced a smattering of two-second heartburn and backaches (the only real symptom I could have done without) coupled with severe irritability and a lack of patience. (Poor David.) Currently, I'm experiencing this feeling of HUGENESS, as if I could fall forward (or pass out from walking up the stairs) at any minute...and I pretty much look forward to any amount of time that my body gets to be horizontal. I don't want to do much of anything, but there is still so much to do. And did I mention the stretch marks? #thestruggle, am I right?
Speaking of stretch marks, I know some women who are so proud of their lil' miracle and are happy to share pictures of their bellies complete with phrases like "these are my victory stripes". #putyourshirtdown. I have a serious complex about the fact that my stomach currently looks like scene out of a pitiful slasher movie. In fact, for a majority of my pregnancy, I've associated pregnancy with this:
I should admit that I actually broke down at work one day because I was disgusted by being able to see Roman move inside me. #world'sworstpregnantwoman
I should also probably admit that on the flip side, I am incredibly satisfied with how AWESOME my hair has become since getting pregnant. Let's be honest, it's fanfrickintastic. #world'smostvainpregnantwoman
It's hard to fathom the degree of change awaiting me in these upcoming weeks. Often, I find myself overjoyed at the prospect of Roman's arrival; knowing that he was created from the unimaginably blissful relationship that I have with my spectacular husband. {--Can I just interrupt this thought process to truly appreciate how amazing David has been? I don't think I could have made it without having him around to tolerate my complaining or avidly admiring my gross body everyday or (literally) picking me up because I'm too heavy to get up off the floor/couch/bed/car/anywhere by myself? #world'sneediestwife--} Other times, however, I'm overwhelmed with fear and anxiety; nervous about how I'll be able to handle mom/wife/scholar/employee at once and still maintain some level of normalcy. I fluctuate between being content and being erratic on the daily. #acutebipolardisorder
Maybe things will get better once he gets here...or at least once he gets on a normal sleep schedule. Or maybe I'll be your average middle class MILF who tucks a flask between her bra and breast pad in case of "emergencies". #priorities. I'm kidding. Please don't call child services.
I feel obligated to thank everyone who has had the...pleasure...of dealing with me in any fashion since I've been pregnant. It has been a roller coaster of ridiculousness that I don't intend to repeat any time soon - if ever. You guys rock. #appreciate. Look for pictures on my facebook page by clicking the link or button to the right!