Ready, but not ready....

This hormone-surge thing is KILLING me. I am a terribly unemotional person generally speaking and I do not regularly lose my shit. But for the past 2 weeks or so (ok, off and on for 7 months) I've been a basket case. I flew into a rage when Spouse asked me how far from the ground he should mount the paper holder in the new bathroom. This is neither a joke nor an exaggeration... I'm insane. I also lost it last night because my feet hurt. And when I say "lost it" I mean I sobbed like a child for ten minutes. I was standing in the kitchen finishing dinner prep and Spouse was in the living room watching a football game. He'd just finished plumbing in the bathroom and took a quick shower, so he was beat. I, on the other hand, had spent the day cleaning, doing laundry, and making a far-too-complicated-for-nine-months-pregnant dinner and I was fucking exhausted. As I shuffled around the kitchen my feet became increasingly unhappy and I broke down. Spouse, thinking I had certainly scalded myself or cut off a finger came running in. Imagine his surprise when he discovered that it was just crazy hormone lady again.

In my defense, my feet DID ache. Last few weeks of pregnancy can make your body do seriously fucked up things—such as when your feet swell to 2-3 times their normal size in a matter of hours and stay that way for days. Yeah, I’m down to one pair of shoes that I can wear and they are clogs. That should be fun in the snow tomorrow. [Actually, as I peek at them now they’re looking closer to normal. May be able to squeeze into boots after all].

So, I’m ready to get rid of the indications of pregnancy—the weight gain, the mood swings, the nightmares, the general ungainliness. But I’m not necessarily ready for the bambino to arrive. Sure, I’m ready to meet him; I’m sure he’s a cool kid. But actually bring home an infant child who wakes every 2 hours demanding to attach himself to my body…?

Not so much….

Sigh. The beauty of this paradox is that like it or not, he’s coming, so what I think/feel about it is largely irrelevant.

The bonus is that I finally get to SEE him in all of these cute little outfits (including the giganto box of gently used clothes that my sister sent to us. Oy! I didn’t need to shop at all!)