Pregnancy is not all Smiles and Belly Rubs.
To sum up pregnancy, you cry, you eat, you gain weight. You cry because you’ve gained weight and then you eat some more. Vicious cycle.
While the numbers on the scale consistently increase, your emotions are something like a roller coaster ride. Minute One: Elation. Minute Two: Livid. Minute Three: Blubbering. Minute Four: Slumber. Who wouldn’t be tired after all of that? I commend any Dapper Daddy, best friend, family member, heck–any human being–that can put up with the nonsense known as pregnancy hormones every single day for 40 weeks.
That roller coaster ride I just described, I was on it just this morning. In fact, that was the first hour of my work day except the slumber part hasn’t arrived just yet. I don’t know if it’s just me and my mindset, but my motto is: “Don’t mess with the pregnant people.” Work is already stressful as it is. Couple that with extreme deadlines, heavy workloads, and clashing personalities and you have all the makings for a “Katy Ka-Boom” in your face, blow up. The recipient of that bomb may not always be deserving of it, but they, more-than-likely, were the ones that placed that last piece of straw that broke the pregnant lady’s back. You didn’t think I was about to say “camel” did you? lol.
Speaking of “camel”, this brings me to another point. Why do people feel so inclined to feed pregnant people?–We’re not animals. “Hey, I didn’t finish my lunch so I thought you would want it.” Or, “Here, I have this half of a bag of chips that I felt so guilty eating, so I wanted to give them to you.” Sadly, this happens to me on a daily basis. This belly does not have a sign on it that reads, “Human Garbage Disposal.” I’m sure people mean well, and offering to pick up some lunch is one thing, but offering me your half-eaten, picked through leftovers? I cringe at the thought of the germs and breath that has been on the food you just offered me and my unborn child. As I type, I’m getting nauseous.
As my day winds down, I’ve mellowed out to a smooth 2.1 on the Richter Scale. The only thing I can think about doing now is going home to bake Country Apple Dumplings (because cooking/baking is my form of therapy), eating those sinfully delicious pieces of heaven with some Vanilla Ice cream, and lay in bed with sincere hopes that I’m able to get some sleep tonight. Today will not be the last day pregnancy gets the best of me, but tomorrow WILL be a better day.
In case you cannot tell: This post has been brought to you by HORMONES 🙂 🙂 🙂 😦 😦 🙂 🙂
Love, Hugs, and Emotional Roller Coasters,