I’m twenty-four weeks pregnant and I feel absolutely miserable.
I haven’t chronicled as much of this pregnancy as I expected to, and as Stitches & Stretchmarks is supposed to be all about the honesty I thought I’d come and share this stage.
With Ted I had a terrible time for sixteen weeks – I was rushed into hospital several times, I was sick, I was constantly poorly, I had terrible SPD – but then I felt like superwoman for the rest of the pregnancy. I suppose I expected this one to be the same.
Maybe I’m just not remembering some of the bad bits, and perhaps BabyDaddy would tell a slightly different story, but I just don’t recall feeling so constantly drained.
I didn’t have a toddler then, though. I wonder just how much of an effect having a toddler has? I’m really lucky in that BabyDaddy lets me have an extra hour in bed at the weekend and does all of the bending and lifting I can’t manage, but I’m still constantly exhausted. I can’t do all of the things Ted wants to do (mostly wrestling at the minute!) but I do try to engage him in activities I can manage. Sometimes he lets me play, other times he makes me feel guilty for not being able to run and jump and climb.
This morning I cried three times before Ted left for nursery: once because he was naughty, once because BabyDaddy told him off, and once because I kept crying! I don’t even know how many times I cried between then and leaving for work two hours later. I feel like such an idiot!
Logically I know it’s not my fault and that my hormones are running riot, but I just feel pathetic when I have no control over how I’m going to react to things. I cry when I’m happy, I cry when I’m sad, and I cry because I’m crying! I cry at adverts! My moods jump from being really happy to desperately miserable in seconds.
Before I found out I was pregnant I offended someone and apologised. Normally I would have brooded over it for a little while, felt guilty and then got over it. This time around I felt like everyone hated me and that I was a horrible person. When I found out I was pregnant it was a real relief; maybe I wasn’t such a terrible person after all (although it still took my husband some work to convince me of that).
That’s how I feel a bit again at the moment. There’s one aspect of my life that stresses me out so much that I build up imaginary conversations in my head, convincing myself that someone is trying to sabotage my relationships with the people around me. Now I’ve written that down I’ve realised how crazy it sounds.
So, my questions to you are: did you ever feel like you were losing the plot in your pregnancy? Did your moods ever affect you so badly that you couldn’t quite work out if it was how you really felt or whether you were being really unreasonable? And am I absolutely crackers?!