I went to an Aqua class this morning. I’m a pregnant lady in her second trimester. That’s what I’m meant to start doing now. I’m meant to do aqua and garden and bake cakes. All whilst wearing my husband’s shirt rolled up at the sleeves and beaming with joy.
I’m meant to be all dewy skinned and glowing. I’m meant to be a strong, confident, super hot pregnant women who is all ‘I JUST WOKE UP THIS WAY!”
Except I’m not. I’m not glowing, I’m positively radioactive. My moods don’t swing. They pole vault. Olympic level.
I like to think of myself as rather positive and happy (if a little bit of a haphazard) human being. I’m not a control freak who likes things a certain way. In fact, much to my husband’s exasperation, I tend to live my life in chaos. Sweet, sweet chaos. I’ve been incredibly blessed and lucky to not have suffered mental health problems in my life. Internally I’m all good, which makes my external scribble of a life fine, even enjoyable.
So I’m finding it really difficult that I cannot keep control of my emotions. My shit is not together. And I hate it.
I remember going to a birthday party when I was little where I was given a beautiful red balloon. It filled me with utter joy but, it kept slipping out of my fingers trying to fly away. To the point where someone tied the balloon around my wrist to stop my distress.
That’s what I feel like at the moment. Like I’m constantly trying to snatch back my feelings before they get away from me. Having to remember to tether my temper.
I also feel guilty. A real heavy, horrible guilt. That I’m not enjoying being pregnant yet. Even typing that makes me feel horrible. It makes me feel like I’ve let other women down.
Like I’m gonna have to report to Beyonce to hand in my badge and ovaries.
I am really trying to enjoy it. Even if my hormones are playing battleship with my serotonin levels and hungry, hungry hippos with my digestion system. Even if I’m uncomfortable and constantly farting (not great at small gigs or in backstage green rooms). Even if I have teenage acne all over my back and stomach cramps just as I’m trying to sleep at night.
I really want to enjoy it.
look, I’m sure I will.
When I decided I was going to blog about my pregnancy, I promised myself to write honestly. So that’s what I’m doing.
I’m sure in less than two weeks time I’ll be planting a rose bush (haha bush) and baking apple pies.
Instead of peeling myself out of bed because I’d rather just sleep all the time and then literally crying over spilt milk.
But hey, I just woke up this way.