The Truth

The truth is that I have had a hard week.

Last weekend I got word about some family members who were having hard times.  One in particular was hard for me because he is one of the cousins who I truly do love and I hate to see him struggle.  My father took him under his wing when he was younger and when he had his son he gave him my father’s name as a middle name.  It meant the world to me.  I didn’t really have anyone to talk to about it because it felt like something I shouldn’t be so bothered by.  So I locked it up.

Other than that, I got a lot done last weekend and I played games and I felt good about it.

But this week.  I am trying so hard to get everything in order and ready for the baby.  What makes is all so difficult is that I always work myself pretty hard anyway so m step up is a big ass step and it’s really hard to make when you’re tired from regular pregnancy stuff (pumping extra blood, not sleeping well, carrying around a basketball under your flesh).  I’m worried about the breeched baby and trying to get him to flip. There were some traumas at work.  I’ve been too tired at him to actually get much done.  And constantly over my head is the fact that I’m 5 weeks from my due date, plus my mother had both of us early, plus I have been really active this whole time which could mean I go sooner as well.  Who knows when Ian will be here??  And I’m sure I won’t be ready.

And I am not the only one who is stressed.  It’s just that I am pretty good at channeling my stress into things like working or sleeping, and also dissipating my stress with things like reading and sleeping and eating.  Other people have been on the offensive.  Other people have taken it out of me.  I am, apparently, a terrible person who ruins lives. I do everything wrong.  I don’t do enough. Even my hair is a problem.

So, today I am feeling hurt and wrung out.  I am feeling the five thousand pressures of normal life, plus the pressure of the final five weeks of the pregnancy.  I need a rest, but there ain’t no rest for the wicked.  Instead, I’m just doing my best not to cry.


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s