posted by Mel
I expected to feel relief when I made it to 26 weeks. The truth is, I’m not really anxious about her dying these days. She seems to be getting along OK without me worrying too much about her. I’m getting bigger. I’m gaining weight– up approximately 8 lbs from my pre-pregnancy weight. What I feel is something I’m a little ashamed to admit to this world of women who want so much what I have. I feel disconnected. As the weeks go on, she is becoming less real.
Is this really another person kicking at my waistband? I can’t see her in my mind’s eye. I don’t dream about her at night anymore. I’m more and more aware of how this pregnancy is affecting me physically, emotionally, and mentally. I’m awkward. I walk slower and more carefully. When I cough I have to hold my abdomen to keep from experiencing shooting pains in my groin. If I accidentally roll over on my back at night I have trouble coming back up into a sitting position in the morning. If I stand too long in one place I get light-headed.
I feel exposed. Don’t misunderstand. I love it when people who know and love me comment on the pregnancy. Believe it or not, I even love it when they touch my belly. It makes it feel more real. But I hate it when co-workers and relative strangers do the quick glance down, the is-she-or-isn’t-she, the how-the-hell-did-that-happen? I feel like I can’t take a break from it, like pregnancy has become all I am. Yesterday afternoon was like running into a loud industrial fan. It was all I could do to stay upright. If I had to juggle one more thing I was going to shut down completely. I contemplated leaving work but couldn’t even face the parking lot. I finally shut my door for a few minutes, pulled my blinds, laid my head down on my desk and just sobbed. After a couple of minutes I realized that I am probably experiencing some kind of pregnancy-related hormonal shift, and then I was able to pull myself together and face the rest of the afternoon, do what I needed to do. On the way home I heard that Barak Obama’s grandmother had passed away and I had to sob again. I hate what’s happening to my brain, and I feel like I can never quite shake it off. I’m reaching for the happy, but it eludes me. I want to focus on my baby, but to focus I have to be able to see her.