Alright, you know these women who tell you being pregnant is wonderful, and they never felt better in their lives? Do NOT believe the hype.
If it’s not one thing, it’s something else. The last couple of weeks I’ve been fighting INTENSE breast pain, with utterly useless warm towels, castor oil and concoctions of aloes and olive oil… all to no avail, because the pain has pretty much kicked my ass coming and going. Granted it’s died down now, but it was so bad last week, that I didn’t sleep properly for two nights straight.
I get ferocious headaches bordering on migrane levels almost every day; dizzy spells that have me stumbling; plus I still get lingering nausea here and there, and actually vomit from time to time still. I am also suffering from some serious fatigue. It’s like my body shuts me down, and forces me to sleep.
Today, I’ve been getting some backache and kind of cramps, which I read have to do with the ligaments and muscles relaxing to allow for the growth of the uterus. But it hurts…
Shucks…. it’s like my body has lost all sense of reason! Ai ya! The short story is, much of this physical changing has me quite miserable.
There is also a certain amount of weepiness… and that I just have trouble with. It’s like I have had PMS for months and months now… and hey, prior to pregnancy, PMS used to wipe me out… so imagine me now.
I guess, I’m just not having fun. Not enjoying this. I know I should, and I feel a little guilty that I’m not reveling in this pregnancy, but I’m too physically miserable to care one way or the other. This is hard. This is hard, hard work! Alot of people won’t tell you that, but I will. Shucks! This is not fun right now!
I have a check up tomorrow, and will report all of this of course. But there’s little they can do, because most of this is apparently normal discomfort. However, I reckon the baby is okay, because my tummy is growing prodigiously.
At least, I HOPE the baby is okay! At least it’s been about three weeks since I’ve seen any spotting, so that for me is a blessing.
I am however, admittedly feeling a little ambivalent about the pregnancy. Not the baby, because in my head, in some ways, there is no baby yet. When I push him out, then I think it’ll be real for me.
No, I mean because of all the physical stuff I’m going through, it’s just hard to feel excited. In many ways, the shock of finding out I’m pregnant, the baby’s father roughing me up, leaving England (where I had such high hopes for a better life) and having to return home… it’s all taken an emotional toll on me. Add to that all these raging hormones, and well… let’s just say the weepiness has been a little wrenching at times.
Add to this being here with my family, and living with them for the first time in years, and dealing with a difficult realtionship with my mother… it hasn’t made for an easy time. I have been very sad.
All of this hasn’t put me in a frame of mind to be ‘excited’… I am just drifting along from day to day, and it’s strange for me, because I’ve always been very clear in my mind about where I wanted to go. I’ve always had a pretty clear idea about what it is I wanted, where I wanted to go in life… and now, all of that is just scattered.
I have had these moments, where I panic, because I just do not know what I am going to do with a baby. I never planned for me to be doing this without a man. Which again leads me to the anger I feel towards the baby’s father. And I realise now I despise him, his hypocrisy and everything he stands for.
The things that run through your mind when you’re pregnant, unexpectedly, and facing the bulk of the experience on your own, is not my idea of fun.
I have, and am, praying a lot. I keep asking for guidance and protection for me and the baby. I ask for the means by which to give my child what he needs to live and the love he needs to thrive. But there are some days when the combination of worry, loneliness and physical misery leaves me quite prostrate.
If you are praying folks out there, pray for me and my little one.