I don’t feel that I’ve given enough credence to little Pea. Struggles with Connor and kids in general will always be in the news, but my pregnancy is in its third trimester and will soon be over. I’m feeling large, not sleeping as well as I used to, having difficulties bending over (oh the joy this brings when going to the bathroom in the middle of the night or in shrinking scrub pants), swearing a lot, and running out of clothes to wear as we head into the colder months. I exercised a lot when I was pregnant with Connor. These days, staying awake all day and getting anything done seems like enough. I give myself a big pat on the back for putting a load of laundry in the washer. Moving that load to the dryer in the same day deserves a high five and maybe a bowl of Chocolate Cheerios.
Being pregnant with a toddler running around can get tricky. I haven’t had those quiet moments where I can focus on sending love and peace and calm and whatever else I wish for Pea from my mind to my belly. I’ve stole a few seconds here and there for my peace of mind, but that same mind can’t help but compare this pregnancy with every aspect of my last one. How much of Pea’s personality is developed in utero? Since I’m not paying as much attention to and taking as much care of myself as I feel I should be, I imagine it to be an inordinate amount. My mind conjures him up to be an emotional mess much as I myself am feeling these days. Do you believe you get what you give when it comes to building a baby? Lord save me if that’s true.
I’ve been particularly anxious about this given the emotions I’ve bulldozed through in the past week. Not being able to let loose is starting to catch up with me. I’m feeling vindictive and jealous towards those who can have a beer whenever, who can and do go out at night after Connor goes to bed, and those who do those things without me. It makes me feel crazy and sad and mean and tyrannous. Is that what I’m being? Can some concessions be made on my behalf? I’ve been haggling with these feelings for the past few days and can do nothing but feel like a bitch about them while still carrying them on my shoulders because I feel there’s at least a shred of validity to these feelings. If only I could get to sleep so I could sleep them off.
Little Pea, I hope for you to be brave, kind, strong, smart, and loving. I will do my best to impart those things upon you, but please do your part to accept those gifts or, even better, just be born with them to make my job a little easier. I’m not holding out for this to be an easy job, though. We all know it’s not. I guess what I’m asking for at this point is forgiveness, patience, and acknowledgement of my simple humanity. Oh, and cut me some slack when my hormones are trying to normalize. Thanks.