I’m having a party. A pity party. Join me.
I’m in my 24th week of pregnancy and last night as I went to bed, it hit me: I’m a terrible mother and wife since I’ve become pregnant. Now, my kids and husband haven’t said that but by my own definition and expectations, I’m just not as great as I used to be. I used to love taking the kids to the park and run around with them. Now I dread leaving the house (in part due to my incomplete wardrobe) and really just any activity period. There was a time that I loved cooking and all the house activities and crafting with my littles. But pregnancy, well, has made everything difficult.
Pregnant Wife, Sucky Life
Being a wife is actually one of my favorite roles. My husband is so amazing that being a great wife to him is easy. He doesn’t ask for much and he gives so much to provide for his family. He’s not the happiest at work yet he commutes 3 hours a day to make sure that we can pay our bills and buy things. The kids and I are home all day together and while they are messy, at 7 & almost 3 they can clean up. But does he come home to a messy home that he doesn’t complain about. The other night he came in and I had already tapped out of all my roles in the house prior to cooking. Did he complain? Not one bit.
I would be remiss if I didn’t admit to missing the days that I had the energy and “feel good” to do the laundry, cook, clean, etc. while working. Again, my husband is amazing and doesn’t say anything about my lack of chore-doing but simply makes sure I’m ok. And this makes me feel like the worst wife in the world.
Pregnant Mom = Tired Mom
I remember when I had mini and I would take her to the park. I would be that mom that was always going down the slides, climbing things, and playing actively with her. I did the same for abc when she was born. Now? Listen. We’re lucky if I don’t throw my back out just getting out the bed let alone running and playing. But when mini looks at me and asks if we can go to the park or do something and I just don’t have the energy to do it, I feel awful. Or when I just don’t feel up to cooking or doing the motherly things like hair, I wonder just what I got into with this third pregnancy.
I’ve literally never been as lethargic and sedentary as I am now and it’s not because I want to be. In my head, I’m ready to be that uber active pregnant mom that goes on long walks with their kids after spending days laughing and playing. But my reality is that I’m in so much pain that I snag a couple hours of sleep most nights and am barely lucid the next day courtesy of pain and sheer exhaustion.
I must have done something right with my girls though. They’re still learning and flourishing and I really have no clue how on some days.
Every Pregnancy Is Different
This is what I’m learning. I was determined to be the happy, pregnant woman this go round since my 2 previous ones were relatively miserable. I love pregnancy. The fact that I’m growing a human in my body is THE coolest thing in the world. Feeling their every move with anticipation of meeting them is one of my favorite things in life. But pregnancy does NOT love me the way that I love it.
With mini I puked 4 times a day every day from the time I was 8 weeks until she was about a month old. Abc had me hospitalized with a virus and severe dehydration courtesy of the puking. And while I’m not sick with BC (that’s this baby’s code name), my body is still not agreeing with pregnancy. I don’t know if labor is as much pain as I’m in now. My lower back and hips make everything incredibly difficult. There is no such thing as “comfortable” or “pain-free” right now–not without the dose of Tylenol that I take when I know I MUST be active.
Anyone that I’ve expressed my fears of my family seeing me as terribly has looked at me like I was crazy and reminded me that I’m pregnant. My children still love me more each day and sit up under me in whatever room I’m trying to contain the tears from pain in. My husband still dotes on my without a single complaint. My friends remind me daily that pregnancy should come with grace and there’s no expectation of me being a Super Woman–except my own. And that’s what I’m struggling with the most. I love my family and have fought hard to be where I am as their mom and wife so not being able to function like I was is not only a hit to my ego (yes, I can admit it) but to my heart. They deserve the best version of me and I hate that I can’t give it to them.
As I’m learning give myself the grace that others have given me, I’m having my pity party for this pain of pregnancy.