A Rant of Sorts

Guys. 

I'm sorry. 

I'm officially the worst blogger in the history of blogging. 

New Years resolution to write and blog, right out the window. 

I do have an excuse of course. I've got basically no internet. What I used to do was to type up the post to a document then when I got to work I could slap it onto blogger, post a picture and call it good. Well the last two months were spent training my replacement at work so I really didn't have time then, and now that I'm done working (I'm done working by the way, yay!) the only internet I have is my phone. Do you have any idea the nightmare that formatting and pictures are on an iPhone? 

Disaster. 

Not to mention, pregnancy is exhausting. For real. Like you always hear that and you're like yeah sure, you're growing a human,  but it's the worst kind of exhaustion I've ever felt. And I was basically an insomniac all through high school. 

Here's the deal. 

I go to bed at night at a reasonable hour. Sometimes too reasonable honestly, as the rest of the world is still very much awake. And I lay on my left side for awhile until munchkin decides to change positions. Then I lay on my right side awhile. And my shoulders burn so I have to fluff up my pillow. Then my stomach starts feeling like it's pulling me down. It's the weirdest thing and I can't explain it but it's only solved by putting another pillow under my tummy to hold it up. Then my hips start to hurt so of course a pillow goes between my knees so that it straightens out my pelvis. And while all that is going on I'm trying to explain to Jarod without hurting his feelings that I don't want his arm around me because the pressure on my stomach makes me feel like throwing up. Then my hands fall asleep. Constantly. Then maybe I'll actually fall asleep. Or maybe I'll just toss and turn for hours. Sometime around five thirty I've got to go to the bathroom, and after that nothing is comfortable and there is no more actual sleep. Come morning I walk around like a zombie for about half hour, trying to remember how to clothes and breakfast. Then I might go do chores with Jarod. And try like heck not to fall asleep during the drive because that's about the only time we'll be alone the rest of the day without people and high stress work to occupy the time. After chores I'll probably help him with whatever he has to do. Or more likely just sit nearby and be an immobile cheerleader. Or sometimes I don't go with him, and I stay home. Always with the intentions of being productive. And I usually force myself to be. At least for several hours. Because it's not healthy to just lay on the couch day in and day out no matter how bad I want to. And feeling miserable. Because honestly Maddie, it's not like washing dishes is a strenuous activity. Same goes for folding laundry. Or vacuuming the tiny living room. None of those activities are hard or stressful. But when you're thirty pounds heavier than you've ever been in your life, standing feels strenuous. Your feet hurt, your legs hurt, and your hands are still asleep. It hurts to sit down, but it also hurts to stand up. And it's not just the extra weight, it's the fact that all that extra weight is strapped to your front in a big clumsy ball that randomly moves around and throws you off balance. 

And heartburn. Oh the heartburn. How dare you eat food. Heartburn for you. Oh you think you can avoid heartburn by not eating? Guess again chica.
Stretch marks!!!!!
Top that off with constantly having cotton mouth, living in the bathroom, headaches, hot and cold flashes, and just generally wanting to curl up and die, and you're off to a great start for the day. 

Then while you're dealing with all the physically draining aspects of pregnancy, let's introduce the mentally taxing parts. Because guys, come on, you're having a baby. That means you have to feed it, and take care of it, and did you know there is a correct and incorrect way to lay a baby down to sleep? What if you don't want to take the prenatal classes because the nearest one is an hour away and we discussed, you're tired, and driving- icky. But what if you need to know something from them? Does not taking the class make you a horrible mother? What if the end of the world happens if you don't take that class? And all the doctor appointments. Driving an hour to have a doctor tell you that you're gaining weight good and see you next week. Thanks doc, sure glad you think this weight is great. Can I go back to bed now? And no of course there's not anything that can be done about all the stuff you're feeling. Nothing at all. Just something you have to deal with. But do not under any circumstances get depressed. Let's throw in the people who grumble and complain about "why are they having a baby so early?" And "shouldn't they have waited?" "Oh that's why they got married" (because no one can do math apparently and figure out that nine months back from April, they were already married). Or, "why would you quit your job? You should have saved money." Because $60 a day for daycare, coming out to $1200 a month, out of my $1300 paycheck saves tons of money. And all the helpful people telling us that we're gonna have to get on birth control right away, because this can't happen again. I guess because us having a baby that we take care of and pay for by ourselves without asking anyone to fund us is somehow a burden on people? And the lovely people who think it's perfectly fine to call you Chubby. Like it's your name. No, thank you, my birth certificate says Madeline. You don't look so skinny yourself. You mean you're not pregnant and that's all just pure fat? Wow. And, oh do I really look like I'm having triplets? Wonderful to hear. Because everyone wants to hear that the extra pounds they have (that perfectly match the healthy pregnancy weight gain numbers) look like there's three people inside you. Or the people who, when someone else says you look great and you just seem bigger because you're five foot tall and don't have as much room as taller girls, those people that are so quick to argue that that's not true at all, because your grandma was short and she was walking around waiting tables when she was eight months pregnant! ....Because saying your short and don't have as much room somehow translates to not being able to walk around and do things. Thank you, sir. Besides those kind of stresses there is the generic stress of I'm having a baby. Never done that before. Not really sure what to expect. I'm not seasoned in the way of the baby. Taking care of little sisters isn't exactly the same thing. The hospital is over and hour away. What if we don't leave on time. Did we cover everything in our birth plan? Did we pack the right stuff in the hospital bag? Actually, more like, I need to get a hospital bag packed and the car seat should probably be installed before we absolutely need it. And freezer meals. Better make some of those, because it gets old living on ravioli when you don't feel like actually cooking. And just wanting a stinking pop out of life, and a coffee with ALL the caffeine in it. Is that too much to ask? And the random uncontrollable mood swings and crying your eyes out, and of course it's not Jarod's fault, but it's absolutely Jarod's fault, and I really have no idea who's fault it is, but it has to be someone's cuz no one just cries for no reason whatsoever. Please.

But you know what? Aside from being the absolute worst thing ever, pregnancy is also pretty darn fantastic. Because, duh, babies. Who doesn't love a baby? And when you can feel the baby, and see the baby, and start to recognize his patterns that hey, this isn't an alien life form, it's a little person and he has a personality. A personality that wiggles like crazy when Needtobreathe is on the radio and does absolutely nothing when you play the country station. A little person that gets hiccups, and apparently likes The Legend of Korra because he sure does move around a lot while it's on. But goes completely still if you pause it and doesn't start again until you push play. That stuff is great. And it's the funniest thing when daddy puts his hand on your tummy and the baby kicks it. Because that's his tummy. Getting to see all the little toys, and shoes, and outfits. Feeling all the snuggly soft blankets. Buying a tiny little frog outfit and putting baby photography ideas on Pinterest. Thinking about what the little guy will be like when he's not so little. When he can walk and talk and learn things. All the stuff you want to show him and teach him.

It's the best. 

Wouldn't trade it for all the sleep in the world.