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He doesn't really ask about my massage needs; it’s pretty obvious his main concern is just how he’s feeling... or rather, making sure he can settle his own nerves by checking if the baby is okay and worrying about that 🙂 bacteria. He's incredibly high-strung right now—he’s even started smoking again. Then, when I try to tell him the little guy is kicking like crazy, or that I’m chugging four liters of water a day, or that I've practically lived in the bathroom today—it's like I've gone through a whole pack of Marlboros—he instantly calms down. But what about me? What about the cellulite I'm dealing with, or the fact that I have to spend three days begging him just to step outside for a walk to help clear it up? Or how I'm expected to be glued to my phone every time we drive somewhere? None of that stress seems to matter to him. It's all just part of the deal, apparently.😁
So, here’s the deal. First off, the way our state laws are set up really gets under my skin. Pregnant women who have only been registered for three months—which was my situation—only get $267 month of benefits. It’s ridiculous. You can barely cover the absolute essentials, let alone buy maternity clothes, which I desperately need since I’m usually a size 3, and everything is starting to feel tiny on me... 😠
2. Then there are the old ladies who constantly drone on with "as long as they're healthy" followed by "as long as it's a boy." I honestly can't stand that sexist nonsense. I couldn't care less about the gender. Though, knowing my husband isn't exactly intuitive, I went to check right away just to prove to him that our maternal instincts aren't lying to us (right, ladies?) ...
3. It’s also incredibly annoying when those same old ladies try to pick out names, and of course, they always pick the exact same names his parents used. It's gross... 🙂
4. Lastly, and most importantly... my husband is driving me crazy. He acts like I’m completely incapable of doing anything. He won't let me drive, won't let me go for walks—he's basically one step away from banning me from breathing air filled with pollutants or something. I've always been an active person, but now, because of him, I can't do a thing. He calls non-stop, hovering over me: "Are you drinking enough water?" "Have you gone to the bathroom?" "How was your stool?" It's exhausting. On top of that, I'm still dealing with this E. coli infection, and he's constantly nagging me to get another urine culture to see if the levels have dropped. If they end up being higher, he loses it—and obviously, they might be higher because, hello, I'm still on medication. It's a disaster. I get that he wants to be caring, and in theory, that's fine, but I just need some breathing room. I'm also getting tired of having to prep heavy meals every single day... 😁