Last night I started crying as if the bottom had finally dropped out. All of the sadness, the fear, the anger, and every other negative emotion I've been feeling for the last 6 months boiled to the top and I couldn't stop the flood of tears that hit me like a tidal wave on the way home from my mother-in-law's house. What was I so upset about, you ask? Oh, well, you know, I was exhausted and it was only 8 o'clock. I hadn't been awake for 12 hours and I could barely keep my eyes open. How is that fair? How am I supposed to get anything done when I constantly feel like this? Life is never going to be the same and I can't do anything but cry about it. So I did, and I think I did it quite well.
Jon listened quietly from the driver's seat while I threw my soggy fit. He simply nodded and comforted me every time I found something new to cry about. He didn't take offense when I told him we were going to be terrible parents, and he refrained from laughing at me when I claimed there were conspirators in our lives who were anxiously awaiting our first parental screw up just so they could rub it in our faces. Jon comforted me as best as he could as I cried because there isn't enough love in this horribly ugly world that I'm bringing our son into and there is nothing I can do to fix it.
It's the moments like this that scare me. It's the moments like this that make me wonder how I'll ever make it through the next 16 weeks, and if I'll ever be able to submit myself to this mental torture again. The physical pain sucks but the emotional turmoil is debilitating.
I don't doubt this is all perfectly normal, in fact, I know it is. I've read, witnessed, and related to countless accounts of moments eerily similar to this one and the many others that have crept into my pregnancy. I am an extremely emotional person. I feel things strongly, especially sadness, anger, jealousy, fear, and I feel them HARD even without these raging hormones, and so I suppose it's acceptable that I'm nearly paralyzed by them now...even if it something as little as feeling tired.
I suppose the only thing that really matters is that I'm a good mother when this is all said and done, so please, Dear God, let me be a good mother. Oh, and God? I'd appreciate it if you helped my husband refrain from putting me in the loony bin. I know he's tempted. Thank you!