pregnant rage

“you’re glowing” is a popular phrase to tell pregnant women.  well, if i’m glowing, you can bet it’s because of my raised blood pressure due to internal rage buildup.  pregnancy looks and feels good on a lot of women.  i can’t say that i’m one of them.

it was pretty apparent with ruth, but even more in-my-face now that it is happening all over again, that hormones, for me, scorpio, middle child that i am, translate into anger.  anger that wells up from deep within and consumes my mind like a fire.

that about sums it up, folks.

take my nearly nightly rage-in.  that’s what i’m calling it.  i’ll wake up to use the bathroom, blow my nose, and hydrate a bit and when i lie back down, i begin to fume about something.  could be anything, anyone.  in my head, i go over scenarios, verbally confront people i have a problem with (something i am really bad at in real life and almost never do), and detail all the ways that i have been wronged in my life.  this usually lasts for an hour at least, sometimes two, before i finally wear myself out and drift off into a rage-induced coma.
needless to say, this does not make for a very restful nights sleep.  and, some of you may be thinking, what about the baby?  all of those stress hormones and negative thoughts are bad for a developing fetus, aren’t they?  i have no freakin’ idea.  but what the hell do you want?  this rage is like a hot geyser erupting from far beneath the earth’s crust, full of odd minerals and residues you didn’t even know were there.  just try and stop that.

the quiet before the storm.

“it’s because you’re drinking too much coffee,” my mom said.  “no,” i scoffed, “i don’t drink coffee any more.  i’m pregnant, remember?”  (seriously, i think a lot of my family members do have a hard time remembering this.  (but that isn’t really true, not that she needs to know that i still drink one cup per day, just like i did with ruth.  you know, just to give us a little boost, me and fifi the fetus.  we can use it, trust me)).

drink up, fifi. this is the good shit.

at every stage of your life, it seems, there is always an ideal that you picture for yourself.  i wish i was one of those pregnant ladies who look like they just swallowed a watermelon, but i’m more the type whose whole body blows up like someone stuck their tire pump up my ass.  i wish i was one of those ladies who just enjoys being pregnant, but i’m more the type to be constantly looking forward to the next stage, complaining about my ailments (no, mecomplain?  never), always worried about something going wrong.

look at this lady. makes me sick.

the  truth is much less savory.  the truth is being pregnant is hard on me, mentally.  sometimes i feel like quitting, like i simply cannot handle it.  at times like these, i put on some christmas music.  you should try it.  very therapeutic.

one of the hardest things in life, that i see myself and others grappling with, is coming to terms with the truth.  with looking it in the face, and accepting it, whatever it is, often ugly, often boring.  i’m just not one of those glowing pregnant ladies.  i’m the glowering one, fuming silently behind you in line at the grocery store.  but, hey, that’s just me.  i’m a scorpio.  middle child.  with anger issues anyways.  and pregnant to boot.  just doing my best here.  no, you couldn’t put it up on a billboard.  no one would buy what you were trying to sell.  i’m not a model wearing a pregnant suit for a photo shoot.  i’m a flesh and blood mother and child.  a walking miracle, if there is such a thing.  but a rage-filled one.  with hemorrhoids.  can you handle it?

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Author: Terry

Welcome! I am a Waldorf and unschooling-inspired homeschooling parent of three, ages 2, 4, and 7 living in the Lansing area of Michigan writing from the front lines of parenthood. Join me as I try to navigate homeschooling and bask in the craziness of life with young ones. Feel free to leave a comment. I would love to hear from you! Thanks for stopping by!

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