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By Kathryn Caldwell
Only two days into officially knowing that I’m pregnant and I can already tell that this pregnancy is going to be very different from the last. Anyone who has had more than one pregnancy is probably nodding affirmatively (as well as perhaps a bit ironically?) as they think, “Well, what did you expect?”
Of course I did expect things to be different as I have been told the differences by my many friends with multiple children already. But I’m not talking about just how physically things can be different for a woman; I’m talking about this time not being alone.
This time around I have a 21 months old who doesn’t understand what is going one and is still well within her selfish toddler stage when everything is (or at least should be) centered around her. Of course this is understandable and even as mommy’s belly grows this mindset will probably not change. But this is the biggest difference this time around for me; the fact that when I am the most tired or feeling the most pregnant, a little someone is in need of me. What a stressful thought!
The last time I was pregnant when I felt my eyes closing and the words swirling into dreams I was able to lie down for a little bit (or a long bit) and finish things up later. (I worked at home then as now.)What a luxury that was, to be able to truly work whenever I wanted to! But things aren’t like that anymore. Well, they haven’t been like that for about 21 months, but now there is more to it: hormones, pregnancy exhaustion, nausea, and plain not feeling up to the task at hand.
I was so tired during the last pregnancy and so far it seems like this one is going to be the same, but if I am exhausted at 1pm and have a tired, yet unwilling-to-take-a-nap toddler, there is no resting for the pregnant. And today, after an exhausting short walk in which my little girl cried about everything, was just that day.
After giving her lunch around 12:30, I was ready to fall onto the couch but instead I turned on the computer and sat down to write a blog article. I knew I wouldn’t be able to work on my translation work, but was certain a short post would be feasible. Feasible perhaps, but while reading it again after getting up five-hundred times to fix something or turn off the lights or get more juice or read a book, I was faced with the worst written blog post in history. Good thing I wasn’t translating….
But naptime was upon me which gave me hope, but that hope was shattered much sooner than I expected. The phone made her cry the first time, then it was having poopies, then it was seeing my lunch and wanting to eat more and then it was just that she was so tired she couldn’t calm herself down. Mommy was about to lose it. I didn’t have the energy to fight with her so I let her loose, only to have a whiny toddle lie on the couch and cry for me to hand over her milk bottle. The fact that she hung her head off the couch in a dangerous position just about made me blow my top. I briskly sat her up, told her to stop crying and plopped myself down to eat. But then I was no longer hungry. I watched her for another ten minutes as she tried to climb the table, walk the tight rope on my calf bones (almost splitting her head open) and almost knocked over a full glass of water. It was time for a change before I started screaming. My voice had already risen to a level that made her stare at me in wonder or stick her thumb in her mouth with a whimper. And of this I am not proud.
So I placed myself and my sleepy toddler on a time out of Baby Einstein and reflected on my own behavior over that last two hours. As I rested my head in silence I realized that I have another 36 weeks ahead of me and that I can’t zombie through every afternoon as a crabby mommy. New batch of pregnancy hormones or not, I do not want to end every day with that guilty hole in my heart from yelling at my toddler for being, well, a toddler.
This pregnancy is different alright but I today I am making a pledge to refuse to use my physical condition as an excuse for a bad attitude, whether due to exhaustion or not. I don’t want to become a mommy monster to my oldest in the midst of incubating my youngest. That just isn’t an option. So even if it takes staying at the park for three hours, rocking her to sleep when my arms are too tired to hold her or putting myself on a Baby Einstein time outs multiple times a day, I refuse to make this pregnancy about me. And hopefully common sense along with resolve will conquer hormones.
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