Friday, December 31, 2010

I'd Rather Be Tired

This whole pregnancy thing sucks.

Yes.  I know I have said that many times.  I feel the need to say it again.

I'm 22 weeks, or about 4-5 months pregnant.  How ever you want to look at it., and this sucks.

Not only does it hurt to lift my legs, and hurt in not nice places, but I still get random shots of serious queasiness. Tonight, the whole family was horsing around, when I suddenly threw up a little.  I managed to keep it on and in me, ran to the kitchen, and had to hang there for like 20 minutes.

This sucks.

The pain is getting to be pretty bad some days.  Not the normal pregnancy pain, but the pain from having double hernias and being 22 weeks pregnant.  It really, really sucks.  I lay in bed, tears forcing their way out of my eyes no matter how much I tried to hold them back, for at least an hour today.

Sucks, I tell you.

I know that when a baby comes, life is difficult.  I have done it before.  Never with two children, and one of them in school at the crack of dawn, but I definitely understand the process.  I get that I won't sleep for more than two hours at a time.  I know I'll be drinking enough coffee to make my blood turn a murky brown, and that is even if the baby, heaven forbid, develops a lactose problem.  I'll just be drinking it black.  I know we will all have a massive adjustment to having a tiny one again, but I welcome that, and all the grouchy, icky, spit up covered woes it will bring.  I would welcome the sleepless nights and dirty diapers with open arms if I could trade that now for what I am going through.

I don't like being pregnant.  I don't like not being able to do what I want.  In fact, I can barely do anything without it causing me pain these days.  I should have been dragging my tail up to a friend's house to help her every day this week, but I haven't.  I just can't muster the get up and go to be able to deal with it all, and I hate not being a good friend like I need to be.


I realize this whole thing is nothing but a pity party, but sometimes, you have to throw one, and that's ok, as long as you don't stay.

I won't stay.  I'll get over it.

I promise to be better, and happier, soon.  Until then, just promise not to laugh at me when I can't raise my legs more than three inches with out a twinge in my va-jay-jay.  Instead, laugh with me when I swear to you that a cantaloupe is going to fall out of there any minute.  Laugh with me when I forget for the 100th time what we said we were going to do next week.  Laugh with me about everything we can find to laugh about.  Laughter really is my best medicine, and I can use all of it I can get.