So apparently the second trimester is when pregnant women are supposed to get relief from the hellish nausea, raging mood swings and general fatigue that ‘plagues’ the first few months of pregnancy – apparently.
Did I miss the bus?!
I’m lucky enough to have mostly avoided the fatigue thus far, but nausea and mood swings? I ain’t feeling any such relief yet! When exactly does this ‘honeymoon period’ begin again?!
I’m over 16 weeks pregnant (early days I know!!) and I certainly don’t feel more energetic or ‘like my old self again’! My friend once said to me ages ago (while she was pregnant) that she expected to feel like a goddess, spread out on a lotus flower while being fawned over and fed grapes, glowing at the prospect of motherhood. When in reality, she felt like shit, her hormones had her frazzled, she was constantly tired and stressed from working the same hours and doing the same level of work while carrying her sprog on board. ‘It just isn’t what I expected it to be’ she sighed under the weight of her growing stomach. I sympathised but couldn’t relate and thought maybe she was just a bit unlucky. But now it’s my turn, I can totally understand where she was coming from.
I often feel like a different person nowadays, like I’m becoming a master of masking when I don’t feel great, or hush myself up when I sometimes want to complain for fear of seeming ungrateful. It’s such a wonderfully natural and beautiful part of life, bringing new life into the world. How magical! But flippin’ hell, most days I too feel like absolute SHIT!
Everyone has a ‘work’ face. That persona you employ to be professional and respectful of your colleagues etc… leave your personal shit at the office door and pick it up on the way out – is my attitude! But one thing I’ve noticed is that these last few weeks I’m having to work EXTRA hard at being patient and keeping the work-mode in full gear. It’s like chronic PMT with no ending in sight! I fantasise about lying on the floor, putting my coat over my head and waving good night! to all around me, with a ‘Do Not Disturb’ sign lain on my chest. But alas, no; one must work to earn money, one must truck on with a borderline martyr complex and keep one’s head above water.
Like my frazzled friend, I sometimes wonder at how the reality of being pregnant doesn’t always measure up to the fantasy I had of it. Where did we get these ideas that pregnant women glow and float about like ethereal creatures? Maybe some do! But I sure as hell don’t. I’m like a walking rage machine: thumping headaches, irritability, the desire for food but absolute repulsion by it…
Like my actual periods, I’m hoping this promised second-trimester honeymoon period is going to show just a wee bit later than the ‘norm’. I’m holding out on hope because I do worry at some point soon I’ll have no friends left. Cancelling cinema dates and refusing dinner offers? Guilty as charged! I’m usually a social butterfly and love getting out and about, but the most enthusiasm I can conjure now is the drive to get as quick as I can into my house-sweats, bathrobe and lie prostrate on the sofa for hours at a time… while waiting for that bus.