Wednesday, May 5, 2010

33 weeks

I'd like to title this post EMOTIONAL. Because, yeah. That's where I am. At the height of some rip-tide of hormones coursing through my body that could really eff right off right about now.

It's amazing how you can bop along, enjoying (enduring?) pregnancy - having survived the 1st trimester, the 2nd trimester is like a party. You can finally eat again. You're not as moody. It really is the honeymoon of pregnancy.

And then the 3rd trimester sneaks up on you. And you start getting more uncomfortable. You can't reach your feet (bye bye at-home pedicures). You wake up more often at night because of aching hips, or having to pee or just whatever.

And the mood swings. I don't know about you fellow moms out there, but the 3rd trimester is a BITCH for this bitch. Like take the crazy that has been going on for the past 6 months and amp it up x 1000.

To be honest, I wish that this just meant I was more irritable, slightly more crusty and snarky than normal. But no. Hormones know your weakness and they like to digdigdig at it like the little tortuous bastards they are.

My weakness? I hate HATE to cry in front of other people. HATE.

Yes, I'm that hard-assed woman you work with that will come over to you and quietly nudge you off to the bathroom to shed your tears in private, if you dare show emotion at work. I have (in the past) sat through meetings and one-on-ones that would make Stalin sniffle; dry-eyed and stoic.

Not to say I was (am) some emotionless android or anything. Oh, I have a temper. I get "passionate" about things. But to cry? In a meeting? In a work setting? In public?  Didn't. Happen.

Until I became pregnant.

I can pinpoint my first experience of work tears in my first pregnancy. I still cringe with embarrassment if I let my brain sit and ponder that meeting with my then-bosslady. I was mortified. And still couldn't stop sniffling. Couldn't control the emotions. Effing. Mortified.

And lucky me! I got to experience Take 2 yesterday! Woot woot! Gotta love pregnancy and the consistency of some of your experiences, time and time again.

I don't need to break it down. I don't actually like to talk about work here. Needless to say, I was in a rather tense meeting with a work colleague. I had the upper hand in the debate, I was right. And at some point the frustration of the obtuseness I was being met with (don't you hate people that dance their way around responsibility? like nails on a chalkboard to me) got so... FRUSTRATING that I felt that salty pin-pricky feeling of tears starting to form.

Luckily I ended the meeting before one tear actually fell, but I know it didn't go unnoticed. (In fact, was asked "Why are you so upset about this? You're leaving in a month anyway." - which, don't even get me STARTED on the treatment of pregnant women in the workplace, and the inequality, and the career-hemorrhage that can occur just because you CHOSE to propagate the species - I could go OFF about it and that's not really what you want to hear.... so... breathe.) And I HATE that I had to essentially concede my point to end the meeting and hightail it out of there.

Hormones. They're awesome.

In other weekly body-update news - I'm carrying quite low now, which means even large-sized maternity shirts don't cover up the belly. So it means I've got a little belly breeze happening with most of the clothes I wear. Because nothing says class like constantly pulling your shirt down to cover up your belly in the grocery store.

To summarize? The little sprog is good - healthy and not in breech position anymore. But pregnancy? It'll knock you down a peg or two.


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