Let me start this post by saying that I LOVE being a mother. Seriously, far and away the best thing that has ever happened to me. What I do not love, is pregnancy. I always thought that I would have 3-4 kids, but with about 5 1/2 weeks to go in this pregnancy, my husband I have decided we might be good with 2: we’re not sure our marriage could survive another pregnancy.
Needless to say, this hasn’t been the easiest 34 weeks of my life. I am so blessed and grateful to be having another child, and can’t wait to meet the little miss or mister, but WATCH OUT: I have no control over my emotions these days, and my favorite person to take it out on is my beloved husband. A few weeks ago, the hubbs and I were in the midst of hormone-induced squabble no. 3,874 and I pulled the “I wish you could just feel what it is like to be pregnant for 1 week!”. Of course, I know I am not the only expectant mother to utter this phrase; we all secretly (or not so secretly) wish our husbands could partake in just a smidgen of our misery.
But honestly, the moment I became pregnant again, so much changed for me: I can barely make it through a work day without feeling like I need to hide somewhere and sneak in a power nap, I can no longer unwind at the end of a long day with a glass of wine, many of my favorite past times are no longer options (Shopping for clothes? Just plain torture. Going for a long walk or hiking Mt Philo on the weekend? Only if I stay within a 20 foot radius of a bathroom, Skiing? haha.), and I would pretty much give my right arm for an hoagie at this point.
But for him? Well, happy hour certainly hasn’t stopped. Even better: going out to dinner with friends on the weekends is even more fun because he has a perma-DD. While I watch from the window, he romps around outside with Ben in the sled, or rolls around in the snow. He took Ben ice skating a couple of times this year, while I had to just watch and freeze my buns off from the sidelines He’s still playing soccer once a week, getting in lots of hikes, and even leaving for a ski trip in a couple days. While he has been fairly good about not eating “off-limits” food in front of me, I can’t help but notice there are ALWAYS napkins from Subway littering the floor of his car when I get in. Heck, he doesn’t even have to fight me for the remote at night! I’d say he has it pretty good!
So, back to our hormone-induced squabble no. 3,874. I recall it was a Sunday morning, as I had just turned 31 weeks pregnant. In a moment of “this isn’t fair, woe is me”, I challenged the hubbs to not drink for the remainder of my pregnancy. Of course, at the time, I was so livid and irrational that the poor sap had no choice but to oblige. But honestly, 9 weeks- I had already made it 31. Surely he can endure 9 weeks without his evening adult bevy or manage to watch a sports a program/complete a home improvement project without a beer in hand. Am I the only crazy pregnant wife who has ever challenged their husband to this?
The outcome? Well, the poor sucker didn’t even make it to 32 weeks. He lasted 5 days! 5 days!! I have to hand it to him, he was doing well that first work week, until we went out for Mexican on Friday evening. What fun are fish tacos without a margarita?! MY POINT EXACTLY!! Since then, it’s been entirely downhill- there is just way to much to celebrate: St. Patty’s Day, March Madness, Easter brunch, the first Tuesday of the month…
So- to make a long story short: Men could never handle pregnancy, and I officially have a stopwatch counting down the seconds until this baby arrives Has anyone else had a particularly bickering-with-the-husband-filled pregnancy? Your tips for surviving?
I should mention that both my husband and I practice responsible drinking (well, not me at the moment). I know from the sounds of this post I am making it sound though we should both have our bags packed for the Betty Ford Clinic- but I assure you, that’s not the case. I just really enjoy(ed) a glass of wine with dinner, trying new drink/cocktail recipes, meeting friends for cocktails/happy hour, a well-made skinny girl margarita, a glass of red wine by the fire on a cold day….you get the idea