I’m growing a tiny human inside me. Our tiny human. Image: Thinkstock.
Let’s face it — I would be annoyed with me by now.
Dear Husband,
You are putting up with an awful lot in being with me right now, and rightfully so — I’m growing a tiny human inside me.
Our tiny human.
You have been very patient and kind with me, but so far we are only 15 weeks along and I fear that we have an even longer road ahead of us. I know that I haven't been myself lately. I’m leaving you hanging when it comes to so many things, the biggest being our daily battle with what-to-eat-for-dinner.
I don’t want to cook anymore: Everything smells gross, and I can never decide what I actually want to eat.
You, on the other hand, just let my frenzy run its course and wait until I am finally able to come to a decision.
I’ve also been a little on the fanatic side about cleaning, because the thought of dust makes this pregnant woman itch. I have taken over your weekends off and replaced them with deep home cleaning sessions, because I know that you can do a better job than the cleaning service we only hire whenever I get a coupon in my inbox.
Instead of starting to develop a cute little baby bump, I just look like I gained some weight. I tried my best to lose 10 pounds before we started trying to conceive so that I was healthy and my body was able to handle being pregnant again, seven years after our first was born — but my body is still doing its own thing.
So thanks for being encouraging whenever I look in the mirror in horror at the way my body is changing.
I’m having an awful lot of trouble keeping my eyes open past 8 p.m. every night. Being pregnant and getting up at 6 am every day to walk our son to the bus stop is kicking me in the ass and most nights my eyelids have all the power. I’m sorry that you have to DVR our favorite shows and then wait to watch them with me on the weekends or if you rush home in time on weeknights for a catch-up session.
I know that because you are my husband and helped make this baby that you are “supposed” to deal with all my pregnancy wackiness, but let’s face it — I would be annoyed with me by now.
We have 25 more weeks to go; are you ready for it?
Love,
Your pregnant wife who sucks at being a wife right now
