Can I just say right now that I usually enjoy being pregnant. It's thrilling and exciting, especially after the baby starts to make itself known in nice ways, like kicks to the spleen and whatnot.
This time around, however, is different.
I'd have liked to regained my health to a greater degree. And gotten down to my goal weight, although I was close. But those weren't the cards I was dealt.
So far, the baby seems fine. We have an ultrasound on the 18th to go along with bloodwork I had drawn recently which will give us an idea if the baby is at risk for any genetic abnormalities. As if I didn't have enough to obsess over.
The baby has a fine heartbeat, arms and legs and all that jazz. It also is pumping out the hormones from hell. I'm mean as a snake most days now, anyone who irritates me may just end up getting a rather nasty earful of whut-fer.
Then there is the whole Passion of the Christ thing. Whenever I think about Judas betraying Jesus with a kiss, I get all verklempt. Well, that is putting it lightly. On Friday, driving to pick up DH for our date at the Larry the Cable Guy show, I heard U2's "Pride" and when they got to the part "one man betrayed with a kiss" I broke down in hysterical sobs, so intense that I had to pull off the road. When I started crying as I related this to my loving partner, he laughed at me.
I sincerely hope that I can overcome this emotional overload before Easter gets here.
The Christmas cards have started rolling in. Many of them include the standard shlocky Christmas letter telling how wonderful their lives are, how wonderful their kids are, and how much they love their wonderful, super acheiving perfect children and spouses and oh everything is just so great that when you're done reading the letter butterflies will come flocking out of your ass.
So, I feel it is my duty this year to send out a realistic and totally honest Christmas letter. First I'm going to try to put the kids to bed on time, to get me in the proper mood. And then I'm going to make an outline, but not actually write the letter until after I have one of my molars pulled tomorrow morning. Yup, I'll be in the perfect frame of mind to write a letter about the last year of our lives........