As a disclaimer, my crazy might prevent me from writing a fully coherent post. You have been warned...and I apologize.
This is my second pregnancy and I'm convinced this kid is already trying to kill me. Sure, I had my moments with my Jake but I'm pretty sure this time I could be legally declared temporarily insane. I was really looking forward to 9 months without PMS and instead I've had almost 4 months straight of PMS hormones coursing through me. My hair is not thick and shiny, my skin is anything but glowing, I'm breaking out constantly, oh, and did I mention I'm an emotional wreck? Yeah, that too.
I've been through this whole pregnancy business before and I know, I know, every pregnancy is different. But when I heard that, I figured it meant different in the degree weight gain, heartburn, morning sickness, baby movement, and all that. I did not think I could be a happy shiny (though sometimes sappy) person with my first and a cranky, exhausted (and ready to snap at the drop of a hat) mess with my second.
My crowning moment thus far was this morning. I was feeling that cranky mood starting to rise up already and to spare you all the details, I'll just say every little thing starting going wrong and I ended up slamming one of the kitchen cabinets. Bryan, still trying to recover from the cold that took him out just in time for Christmas, came down to check on me. I told him I didn't know what was wrong with me; I felt hot, furious, and close to tears all at the same time. Fast forward about 30 seconds and find me standing in front of the open refrigerator, bawling and laughing hysterically at the same time, while Bryan looked on, not sure what to do.
You better believe this child is going to know just what I went through to bring him/her into this world. What? You think it's unfair that you have to do the dishes tonight? Let me tell you about what you did to me while I was growing you in my belly.
And let's not even get started on how maternity clothes are either too big or too small on me.