I'm struggling.
There. I said it (typed it...) out loud. My inner infertile is giving me death stares and telling me I sold out and that I swore I would never say this, but I have to. I. am. Struggling.
I love my baby, I smile every single time I feel him roll and everytime I feel him kick. It's like its just me and him, nobody else gets to feel these things or knows him like I do, for the next 10 weeks we get to remain in our exclusive club until he's welcomed into the world and I have to share him with his Daddy. I love planning his arrival, shopping for his things and thinking about how life will change when he gets here. I love him, I love being able to be a family and after 4 years having everything I dreamed of come true.
But it's hard.
I hate working 40+ hours a week with mild SPD and near constant heartburn. I leave my house at 7am everyday and don't walk back through the door until 7.30pm, at which point I am simply exhausted. Getting through a working day now is difficult. My hips hurt everytime I have to walk to the printer, I can't sit for anymore than 45minutes without my lower back beginning to ache. My workload is increasing every week. I am single handedly organising a two day national conference which takes place in 10 days time on top of my usual day to day work. I sleep for roughly 4hours a night and now the simple pleasure of chocolate or dessert after dinner has been taken away by the joy of GD. I think my plan of working until 39 weeks may have been a bit adventurous.
Last night I arrived home and oiled up my growing belly as I do every night and whilst admiring how utterly weird belly buttons look during pregnancy I noticed the angry red stretch marks that have now formed in my bikini area. I admit I crumpled and spent the next 10-15minutes in tears.
I love this little life I have growing inside me and everything that comes with it but it's hard
