Something I’ve really been struggling with this time around in pregnancy is my emotions coupled with mood swings. I’ve been pregnant before, and I can tell you– this is NOT the same. Jesse would agree. In fact, I think we’d both be surprised if this baby turned out to be anything but a girl, due to the fact that I’ve had everything more severe this time around.
I say this here, on my blog, because I could use prayer. Not the “oh help her in her dire need!” type of prayer, but the constant kind, every morning plus a “quick prayer throughout the day” kind.
Basically, long and short, my emotions and hormones are SO bad this time around, I’ve developed a type of neurotic/bipolar disposition. I don’t think I’m exaggerating, seeing as Jesse was the one who (kindly and lovingly) brought it up. One minute I’ll be fine, the next, sobbing uncontrollably or shaking from anger. Rinse and repeat, many times a day (no joke). Once an emotion gets ahold of me, I feel powerless, almost like a spectator watching a 3D horror movie.
It’s incredibly disconcerting, I must say. I hate the feeling of not being in control (surprise!!). It’s the reason I willingly opted for only a local anesthetic when I got my wisdom teeth out a few years ago. The thought of being in a drug induced state was worse to me than the pain/discomfort. It’s also the reason I took one Vicodin pill after the surgery and said, “never again”, simply because I felt so loopy, so unlike myself. It’s ALSO the reason I don’t think I will ever opt for an epidural– I want to be “fully present”, and drugs don’t allow me to do that.
So to be living that “out of body” and “out of control” feeling on a day to day basis? It’s tough. And terribly discouraging.
I also live in fear. Fear of the next “trigger”, because once an emotion gets a hold of me, I can’t shake it! Oh, believe me, I try. I have my usual tricks– praying, going away for some space and quiet time, music, even retail therapy. But none of it helps. In fact, the more time passes, the worse I get.
My first reaction was to blame everyone around me, because in my world, it all made sense and nothing had changed. If I was furious with Jesse, it was all his fault for being so mean. And then, after Jesse lovingly stuck things out, blow by blow (figurative, here…), I would see the light of day and realize, with crippling shame, that I over-reacted. And not in a slight “oops” way. At least I’m good at apologies! But eventually, even those start to sound hollow.
Part of the reason I’ve gotten worse over the past couple weeks is because the nausea has been fading away, ever so slowly. I’m beginning to think that the nausea was a bit of a blessing (if we can call it that), because it “sedated” me. Also, I had a definite source to blame my feelings on and was able to convince myself that the extreme feelings would pass away once the nausea did.
But now that I am feeling so much better, I have more “fight” in me, I guess you could say. And that’s a bad thing, turns out.
We are working on a few things that Jesse thinks will help minimize the irritants. He thinks I need to start working out again, so yesterday he went with me to Kennedy Club Fitness to sign me up (they have an indoor pool for lap swimming! And free childcare, even though I don’t think I’ll ever need it. Hurray!). He thinks I need to “get out” more, so I am trying to make more play dates with friends (but who would want to be around me? i think despairingly). And I need to start getting a better night’s rest, so I’m going to try and find an adequate body pillow this time around (the cheap one I bought at Target last pregnancy just isn’t working, seeing as it does not bend).
Please, I beg for your prayers, mercy and encouragement on this one, friends. I HATE the way this feels, I HATE treating the ones I love with such relentless fury, and I HATE the aftermath of shame and regret. Most days, I feel lucky if I can get through the day without a meltdown.