When You Just Can’t Glow

I’m counting down the final weeks of my second pregnancy.  Lord knows I’m done.  With a minimum of two months left, an extremely active baby and a not-so-careful, active toddler, I want my body back.  Pushed, pulled, kicked and smacked from the outside; pushed, elbowed and kicked from the inside, I just want to scream “Enough!”  Especially since I haven’t had my own body to myself for two years and ten months.

When other mothers on social media seem to have great pregnancies, or appear to be doing everything right, always positive and upbeat,  it can make you feel like a terrible mother for not being able to keep up your exercises,  or afford your pregnancy tea, or being incapable of managing your toddler’s every need.
Discouraged, bloated, swollen, tired, cranky, hot and just plain miserable,  you scroll further down your newsfeed hoping somebody else is falling apart.  Surely you can’t be the only person in your circle who hates life today?

Books, toys, complaints, among a plethora of other things, are shoved in my face, forcefully smacked into my limbs, grabbed for across my bulging stomach, or thrown in my direction.
The rumblings of discomfort become more frequent as the “flutterings” of a rolling, stretching, growing baby start to feel more like earthquakes.
Prayers for an early delivery billow more like smoke from a forest fire, as opposed to a waiver from incense.  Each reminder that you’re not glowing and excited making you want to boycott the internet.  When does the misery end?

I read an article from Everyday Family this afternoon,  giving me permission to feel this way.  Finally,  I’m not alone.  And it’s okay to be done.

http://www.everydayfamily.com/blog/ok-like-pregnancy/?utm_medium=email&utm_source=2030&utm_campaign=Blog&gaui=7589455&tc=120085

My friends try to perk me up, some of them never having been pregnant and others who never will experience pregnancy.  It’s nice to be encouraged or focused on other things, but come the end of the day, you’re still pregnant,  you’re still raising a toddler, and you’re still miserable.
The neverending cycle of housework stacking up laundry and dishes, sprinkling dust in the air, mashing food into the floors, pushing toys under the couch, scattering things all over the floors. 
When all one wants is a nap, where is there time to enjoy the phenomenon of Life?

One day, it will end and I can stand straight up and down again.  I’ll be free to bend, stretch, lift and move!
Until then, I endure the moments by remembering my son won’t always be a toddler, he isn’t going to have Mommy to himself much longer, and Mommy isn’t going to have the same kind of time and energy -however difficult it is to come by right now- to spend with him like I do now.  There wont be enough space to crawl into my lap for his afternoon nap, or to watch movies.  He won’t have the same amount of room to snuggle into Mommy’s bed in the middle of the night.  He won’t be the only one demanding my attention.

How precious the moments, even in the tempest of misery.

The other things I look forward to, and anticipate with extreme delight, are various postpartum accessories to aid in feeling better about having two children, without the guilt staring at me from the mirror.  From tummy wraps to a hip corset, I’m looking forward to getting MY body back sooner.  Followed up with a better diet this particular time around, and not making the same mistakes I did the first time.
So far so good and I look better than I did the first time by managing a healthier choice of diet.  Ladies, I don’t care what they say, whatever you put on has to come back off, and it don’t just fall of.  You aren’t eating for two, eat for YOU.
So there is solace, and there is a brightside.  But I’m done.
And I hope every day she comes early.  Healthy of course, but early.

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My Life As A Human Spawn Point

Going back to Mommy Ramblings for a moment, the trip to Ohio wore me down.  Normal things, such as getting out of the car, eating, and sitting were uncomfortable.  Why is it when you’re pregnant, bloating is ten times worse?
Rest Areas are usually found every 76 miles, but sometimes that’s just not soon enough.
I remember being pregnant with Isaias on the road to Ohio, we always stopped three miles BEFORE every Rest Area.
This is the second time I’ve had to travel across the country pregnant, for a death in the family.   My doctor said I’m not allowed to have the baby this time, but considering I still have 16 weeks of pregnancy left, I don’t see that being a problem

Between trying to raise a toddler, spawning a baby, and being away from home I am worn out.  My poor son probably thinks I’m the Thing From The Black Lagoon first thing in the morning, what with having to give up coffee.  I sneak a cup in here or there, but honestly that’s probably doing more bad than good to my sanity.
Why is it that when we have children, we feel as though our sanity has disappeared?   I am a Stay-at-home mom which makes my loss of sanity that much worse, as I literally spend every waking hour – and more – with my child.  The husband is off and away for everything and anything while I am at home raising his family.  When God cursed Eve and said, “I will increase your pains in child bearing” what he meant was, “When you’re on your period, it will be hell.  When you’re pregnant, it will be hell.  When you’re giving birth, you’ll wish you were dead.  When you recover from birth, you’ll hate yourself.  When you raise your child, you will love your child, but Free Will means your kid is going to push every button in your emotional body, and it will be hell.  Then, you’ll get pregnant with the next one and the cycle will plunge you into insanity.”

…..so, maybe he didn’t mean that, but heaven and all its occupants know I’m not prepared to have two toddlers running around testing my patience every chance they get.
Did I mention I’m having a little girl?
I get the best of both worlds,  but I’m going to endure Night and Day difference the moment she develops her personality.  I look forward to having a baby again,  but then I remember they grow up.

When you’re pregnant,  you really have to pick your battles with your toddler wisely.  There isn’t enough of you to go around.  Literally.  Your body is growing another child, and it slowly suckles away your energy, your ability to move quickly,  your ability to think clearly, and your ability to keep your emotions balanced ((I don’t know, maybe that’s just me)).
I’m tired.  I’m worn out.  I’m just ready to have my body and it’s needs back.  I went from breastfeeding, back to pregnant with only a month in between.  ((My husband couldn’t handle the thought of the depravity of his wife on our Anniversary.   I said I didn’t want to get pregnant.   But men have this way of guilt tripping you for holding out on them during important days in your relationship.   An anniversary is a pretty big thing to have to skip out on, apparently…..  like he couldn’t have waited two more days…..))
The things that comfort and care for me are coffee, and the occasional Mikes Hard Lemonade, or red Moscato.
I also thoroughly enjoy rigorous exercise, yoga and pursuing a slim, toned figure.
Those are the things I do for me.  Things that I have to wait for again.
Why is it that the things we love most are the ones we have to give up so we can bring children into this world?
When do I get to be me again?
When can I look in the mirror and love how I look?  How I feel?

Am I the only one who feels like this?  Should I feel guilty for needing to do for me, when I have to look after everyone else?  Why must coffee be a “guilty pleasure”?  Or two glasses of wine on the occasional Saturday night dangerous?
This is the punishment we endure for nine months, when the hormones are raging, the toddler’s misbehaving,  and the husband won’t do his share to make things easier.
Somebody tell me it gets better.  Because right now, I don’t see it.  And I’ve still got 16 long weeks to go.