Right now, there is very little that isn't making me very angry. Hateful even.
Quite frankly. I have become an angry, bitchy, whinging, tearful monster.
I quote the huggies website for week 21:
"Try to take some time every day, just to enjoy your pregnancy. This is a time when the early discomforts have (hopefully) settled, but the baby isn’t so big it’s causing you to be really uncomfortable. You could feel yourself in love with the world, a sense of well-being infusing every pore. Alternately, you could just be feeling fat and a little fed up. You may find you have a very short fuse when it comes to tolerating others and find yourself irritated by the smallest things. Make the time to exercise which will help your body release endorphins, those feel good hormones."
Exercise
Well, it's clear which group I'm part of, and they suggest 'exercise' will help. That 'swimming is ideal'. Huh! Really? Have they tried fitting into a pair of togs lately? Or even figuring out the best way to shave your legs (without a) crushing the baby or b) falling over or c) finding yourself unable to stand back up) in order to respectably don any type of swimming outfit? Not to mention the extreme self consciousness that comes with looking like a baby whale. Hey, lets just make it more obvious, and jump into the pool! Find my distant relations and swim off into oblivion!I want to exercise, I really do. But when it comes to the end of the day, I am far too exhausted to do anything. The other day, I even did what I swore as a beginning teacher I would never do. I put on a video for my class, because I was simply to tired to teach them anything.
Other People
Particularly men, seem oblivious to the fact that comments you would never say to us when we aren't pregnant, are not suddenly ok to say just because we are.
I am a very short person. Therefore, apparently I look much more pregnant that I actually am. I am only just over half way there, therefore I anticipate that I am going to be pretty much rolling everywhere I go in the not too distant future.
I AM AWARE OF THIS!
Calling me 'chubby' is not ok.
Saying 'it's ok that you're big, you're pregnant', does not make me feel better.
'You're only big in your belly' just makes me want to slap you.
Telling me 'you look like you swallowed a basket ball', is doing yourself no favours.
At least, I'm managing to avoid the tummy touching at the moment...most of those who know me seem to have been forewarned.
Work
There is just way too much stuff to go into here.
I am on overload! I only officially work one part time job. That is essentially 16 hours of work a week. Or so my pay cheque will tell you.
But, as any teacher will you, this is a lie. I do not work a mere 16 hours a week. No teacher does. I have 180 reports to write, 16 hours of lessons to plan a week, marking and photocopying to do for each class, not too mention the two hours of extra curricular choir rehearsals I run, a major musical performance evening coming up, as well as the half hour of duty I am supposed to do each week. So, I get paid for 16, but essentially work at least 30 in my official part time job.
Of course, lets not forget that I am also planning the giant interschool choir festival. Which was my own monster that I created last year. People really loved it, and now it must continue. However, I have no funding, can't afford to pay anyone, and therefore am acting as director, secretary, media spokesperson, school liason, presenter liason, marketing and communications all by myself for free. This week, I put in 6-10 hours of work in my own time to get this thing up and running, recruit people to run workshops, and write up and send out giant information packs to all the schools taking part. I have some help from others, but they are all very busy also.
And finally, this second baby monster I have created....my grand scheme to make a performance opportunity for myself in order to not let this years goals go to waste. The wonderful cabaret. It's fun, it's exciting, I think about it all the time. I have applied for rights, found the venue, found everyone who is involved, created the first ideas script, and sorted out advertising. But now someone has pulled out...and it's suddenly become very stressful.
So - there you go.
I bring it on myself. So what can I expect.
But I am still mad.
Dad's
Dad's have it easy as far as I can see. They get a baby without any hard work really. They can take a week or two off work and then go back, knowing that they aren't needed because Mum is the feeding machine. They get time off to go and interact with adults on a daily basis. They get to continue all their favourite pastimes while Mum is pregnant. As far as I can see right now, their lives actually don't get disrupted all that much.
I know that I am probably completely wrong, but that's what I've been thinking this week, and it makes me MAD.
The Baby
And yet, with all this going on, all I want to do is think about the baby. I just want to make up the room. I just want to stay home with it and not go back to work. I just want it to get here so that I can say 'hi, little one'.
I just want someone to come and say - "it's all good, take a rest and feel baby move some more. Everything's under control and everything will be fine. I'll take it from here."
But in today's modern world, and with my own over ambitiousness, lets be honest. Who gets to do that?
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