Hellz, yeah. I've certainly heard it before, but now I'm living it.
I feel a bit guilty and also somewhat shortchanged. The fact is, this pregnancy is hard. I'm very, very grateful that I was able to get pregnant at all, especially with comparably minimal medical intervention this time. But oh, geez.
Can I just kvetch for a moment? Am I allowed to kvetch and still be grateful? I hope so, 'cause I'm gonna. This is my blog, after all, and if I can't kvetch here, where can I?
Ok, so I'm nearly 19 weeks pregnant, and I'm still queasy. Thank the gods for Zofran, because otherwise I'd still be miserable. For the last however many weeks, I've been unable to choke down my prenatal vitamins (feeling very guilty about that) or my Zoloft (so I'm also depressed). On top of all that, I've had a nasty, terrible cough and chest cold for the last two weeks that has me sounding like an emphysemic octogenarian.
Last time, even though I was working full time, I could come home, put my feet up, relax and daydream. This time, I have a lovely, energetic, wonderful and exhausting toddler to care for, feed, bathe, and get to bed at the end of my work day. I love her more than my life, but sometimes I just want to come home and crawl into bed.
And on top of it all, I worry. I worry about whether the Doodlebug will come out healthy and happy. I worry over whether I will be enough for both of my children. I worry that at the ripe old age of 42, I may be too old for this. I worry about how Atomic and I both feel taxed to the limit as it is, and how we're going to get through the next few years. I worry about whether we'll have enough to support them and get them through school. I worry about where we're going to put the Doodlebug, since we currently seem to be fresh out of spare rooms. I worry about how in hell I'll be able to get two children up and down our stairs. I worry that I'll be a grouchy, unfun mom, a harried, nagging wife, and an absent, preoccupied friend.
I'd love to hear how all you intrepid parents of two or more manage.