I am what most people lovingly (or not so lovingly) refer to as Type A. Also known as a Virgo. Also known as OCD. I like to be in control of all things at all times. And I want everything I touch to be perfect.
Usually, this can be turned into an asset. I’m known for killing myself over details, for working insane hours to make sure that everything is done and as close to perfection as anyone can muster. This also means I may pick up slack from others who don’t .. share my drive. It means that a lot, actually.
But we’ve reached a point in my pregnancy where I just. can’t. anymore. I’ve been trying – and it’s hard because last pregnancy? I worked until PAST my due date. Like, in the office, working 8-9 hour days two or three days after my due date, until my boss just finally got skeeved out at the thought of my water breaking at an event or a meeting. Even then, I worked virtually until the day of my induction. So I have this standard of insanity that I SET BY MYSELF that I’m trying to hold myself to. But this time is so different.
I have another kid, as it turns out.
My job is a bit more stressful now than it was then. (Although I love it! I really do!)
I’m in school.
This fetus is harder on my body than the last one.
While I’m textbook healthy – and therefore hate complaining – this pregnancy has been so MISERABLE. I’m not sleeping because I can’t get comfortable. I have allergies that are causing me to have a reflex dry cough that has caused me to vomit on more than one occasion. And y’all. Let’s not even TALK about my feet. I have ONE pair of shoes that fit. ONE. My feet/ankles/calves/knees swell to two or three times their normal size. To the point that coworkers stare at me with a mix of sympathy and disgust and say, “Oh, honey.” I KNOW.
I am HUGE. I literally cannot turn around in my shower without having to open the door to allow room for my belly. (It’s a standing shower, to be fair.)(NO, SCREW IT, THERE IS NO FAIR HERE.) I have to wake up to roll over, because it is an event. I get winded walking from my desk to the bathroom.
AND I STILL HAVE FOUR (and a half, in reality) WEEKS TO GO.
So we’re getting to the point that I’m just getting by. Work stuff gets done, but it gets done when I can get it done in a realistic (i.e. normal person’s) timeframe. If stuff is not getting done by the person who should be doing it – I’M LETTING IT GO UNDONE. (This is massively painful for me.) I am currently holding a high C average in the class that’s caused me heartburn all semester. I have an opportunity to retake the final for a better grade, but I’m really like, Meh. That’s passing.
The house is not spotless. I haven’t cooked in AGES. Bryan has picked up more than a fair share of the household duties and I just can’t help any more. It is all I have to not come home from work and go straight to bed. (Mostly to get my feet up.)
The boys’ room is done; they are now sharing a (pretty cool, if I do say so myself) room. The nursery .. well, we have a bassinet, so it’s not like we need a nursery on Day 1, right? RIGHT?
It’s only a small amount of weeks left, but each day seems so looooong (especially when I can’t sleep) that I don’t know if I can make it. (.. you know, like I have another choice.)
Right now, it’s all about just getting by. So that we can get better later.