Hard Times

Last time I was pregnant- on the right with the extra poofy feathers

Recently, I have found myself totally overwhelmed,

Overwhelmed by my schoolwork.

Overwhelmed by my children.

Overwhelmed by my pregnancy.

Last time I was pregnant, I could participate in weddings
with alpacas and homemade wine.

I'm not ashamed to confess that I've spent a lot of time feeling sorry for myself and crying and eating frosting right out of the canister.  The thought that keeps floating through my head is...

"Why is it so much harder this time?"

Well, today I finally figured it out.  It's harder this time because EVERYTHING is harder this time.

Last time, I may have been pregnant with twins, but I wasn't in school.  And most importantly, I didn't have any children.  I had two jobs to do, to move and settle my home, and to be pregnant.  Yes, it involved a subchorionic hematoma.  Yes, it involved SPD and a few gall bladder related trips to the hospital.  But still, it was the only thing I needed to do.

Once we had moved, M lost his job and suddenly not only was I constantly assisted in both of those tasks by my favorite person in the world. they were still the only jobs that I had.

Now?

Last time I was pregnant, we could get away with friends
for the weekend

Now I am wrangling two (very well behaved all things considered) toddlers.  Now I am scrambling to finish my degree.  Now my husband is not only not available to me all day as he's working, he also is unavailable all night and evening because he's finishing up his degree as well.

And on top of all of that, this time around I'm dealing with regular mole removals, with dietary and health problems, and with all of the drama that comes with changing insurance companies two times during the course of a pregnancy.  Yes, getting $2K bills for ultrasounds is enough to give pretty much anybody heartburn.  And of course, I still have the SPD.

So as I sat on my couch, willing my children to go to sleep and just be quiet, and wishing that somebody would magically bring me a root beer float, I realized...

It IS harder.  I'm NOT crazy.  I'm NOT lazy.  I'm NOT somehow much older and weaker and less able to handle being pregnant.

I would be exhausted and stressed and borderline insane even if I weren't *also* pregnant.  And yet, here I am.  Also pregnant.

Last time I was pregnant, we could
catch a ballgame

So I hereby remind myself to take my last minute New Year's Addendum to heart- I am going to be a little easier on myself.

I am going to give myself a little slack for sitting down and weeping on the couch into my Girl Scout cookies.

This is hard.  School is hard.  Toddlers are hard.  Never seeing your husband is hard.  Having skin cancers is hard.  And being pregnant is hard.

And doing it all at the same time?

Well...

On that note, I'd like to apologize for the lack of posts so far this week.  And that the lack shall continue.  You see, Friday is Passover.

And because I had so much free time and energy and all, I decided to host my family seder.

(Really, there was more to it than that.  With Passover starting on a Friday night in the buildup to finals, with two small children and me reaching the size and shape of a beluga whale, there was no way we were going to be able to travel.  It simply made more sense to have everyone come to us.  That said, I'm hosting a seder for 27 on Friday.)

Last time I was pregnant, no matter how
much it sucked it was a hell of a lot easier.

(It should be fun.)

Next week I will make up for it in spades by posting all about my family's seder- from the recipes to the tradition to how on earth I squeezed that many people into our condo.

Next week, I will write all about my wonderful family and friends who are trying so hard to make things easier for me by cooking and cleaning and watching my children.

This week?  Becoming SuperMommy is going to be... scarce.

I'll be busy crying into a box of Tagalongs.

...because this time?  This time, pregnancy is really, really, really hard.

This time, life is harder.

In four weeks, M will be done with school.  Four weeks after that, I will be done with school.  Four days after that, Baby X will be due.  And ten weeks after that, my monkeys will start preschool.

This time, I'm just limping along to the finish line.  But I'll get there.  And it will be just as wonderful as last time.  I just need to keep remembering that in the end it's going to be okay.  And it's going to be okay.