Monday, January 17, 2011


Alright, so here's the truth of the matter. This pregnancy has been a beast. And not just in the "I feel sick and want to barf after I take a long nap" kind of way. I'm struggling. Big time. My main goals every day are to get up and take care of my girl. Showering is optional. No really. My hormones are completely whacked, and I feel what I can only assume is some sort of prepartum depression. I feel chemically altered, completely not right. My mind and body are more than not my own. I'm a complete alien to myself and those around me. And this isn't me trying to garner sympathy. This is just what it is, and it's my best explanation for why I have very little motivation to do much more than feed my fetus (and that's a freaking chore when everything makes me yack) and make sure my toddler is still thriving. Every ounce of positive energy I possess is packaged into what I can give Annabelle. It's the best I can do, and although I know it's what matters right now, it still isn't easy, and I still feel like a failure most of the time.

That said, I realize that there are some aunties and a grandma who are likely missing their Annabelle fix. I mean, I would. :) I admitted to my mom the other day that I was secretly scared that as Annabelle left the completely adorable sit-and-do-nothing-but-be-cute phase, I would somehow not find her as fun, that somehow toddlerhood would diminish her cute factor. Oh, how I was wrong. She is most definitely the light in all this pregnancy darkness. She's a complete joy and a wonder. Her daily progress blows my mind, and I'm so in love with the little woman she is. She's tender and insightful and knows when Mommy is "shad" or "shick." She gives hugs and kisses and tells me she lubs me, always when I need her to. I imagine she's enjoying this first trimester as it means I spend most of my day lounging with her, playing whatever she chooses, instead of trying to clean the house or multitask on her. I suppose that the bright side to this pregnancy is that I've had more minutes with Annabelle. And they're simply priceless.

So, I'm going to try and post more, and it will likely be chiefly photos, because I know that a daily discourse on feeling like crud is less than fun to read. My hope is that as I exit the first trimester in these next few weeks, that things will get better. But I'm also prepared to just stick it out until Baby Cheney gets here. I've never really felt this miserable, truthfully, but there is no doubt that it is worth it. Being a mother is my greatest dream come true, even when the price tag is chemical alteration for a while. :)


lichelle said...

That was a nice fix. :)

Just keep taking care of you, the baby, and the toddler. It's okay to have twelve bags of garbage on the deck. I'll come up and take them out sooner or later. ;)

Kirsti said...

I feel your pain. I spent three months lying on the floor willing Edward not to destroy anything too important: and the definition of "important" became increasingly more fluid as the weeks went by. Dinner sometimes got made. Sometimes not. Diapers sometimes got changed. Sometimes not. I just hope the pre-baby blues don't translate into post-baby blues for you: good luck!


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