So I'm at 37 weeks. I'm trying to be objective and keep this from turning into a rant or a novel-probably unsuccessfully-but right now, I am completely hating life. I scored a 112 on that test in the sticky up top; I've gained way more than I ever thought possible-I went from 123 in October of last year to 197 at my last appt-which has caused a ton of stress between my husband and me, he's working making way less than what he used to-he quit his $60k a year job to make a go at our family biz, which has since taken a nosedive, so he's roofing for $12 an hour. He's treated me differently ever since I got pregnant-it was an accident, we were planning to wait about a year beyond what actually happened, so he thinks it's my fault
: and tells me, and our friends, that "he can't wait to have his skinny sexy wife back". He used to be awesome at remembering things like birthdays, etc-even if he didn't have a card (which he normally did) he'd say something, (which quite frankly means more than anything) and ever since I got pregnant, he's missed valentine's day, mother's day (he has a step daughter, and he always used to make sure she got a card for me and her mom since she's usually with us on Mother's day, due to her school holidays), my birthday, and our FIRST anniversary. He barely spoke to me on our anniversary-spent the whole day mad because I was sick and didn't spend the day cleaning house. I feel like that is all I ever do-I work full time, playing secretary to about 30 engineers-making coffee, etc. I hate my job, but it has good benefits, so that's why I changed-I come home, cook dinner-always what he wants, mind you, or I hear about how "people in the north just don't know how to cook" (he's from TX, but he left there when he was 12 and moved to ID), clean the kitchen, wash clothes, fold laundary, and crash. And then hear him whine about how his sex life sucks. I've told him that I have a hard time being interested in sex when I feel fat and unattractive, and he says, "well, I miss you being skinny and sexy"
Our house is never clean enough, my hair is never right, I'm never dressed nice enough, my butt/legs/arms/boobs are too big, blah blah blah-yeah, try dressing nice in hand me down maternity clothes that used to fit until you retained 15 pounds of water-and he refuses to help me get ready for the baby-we have a crib, from his daughter-under the house. I started asking him in July to get it out so we can find a place for it, and buy a new mattress-I was "nagging". It's still under the house, btw.
When I crash, and say something, he blames it on me-I'm not coping well and how come? (Oh, did I mention my father has terminal cancer and my mom is after me to research alternative treatments because she doesn't have time, taking care of dad?)
I used to think I was pretty capable and competent at most everything-life skills wise-or if I wasn't, I was fully capable of learning. I wasn't afraid of anything. Now I just want to hide from everyone and everything, and just be alone. I can't sleep, and I either can't eat or eat too much. It's affecting my job, and we can't afford for me to lose it, especially now. I mentioned it to my OB and he said he'd rather not put me on meds unless I really need it, until after the baby is born-I don't want to take meds for this, I've been down that road, and I feel plenty numb on my own, I don't need a pill to be numbed. I'm trying 5 HTP and tyrosine and GABA and CLO and EPO and all that from the Mood Cure, but it isn't helping much, which makes me wonder if it isn't a reaction to the way I'm being treated at home.
He used to be my best friend and I'm scared to even talk to him about how I'm feeling because it'll just get turned around to how I've changed and poor him he "wants his wife back". And I honestly don't know if I've changed, or if the change in our relationship is me responding to how he's treating me these days. I'm even scared to talk to him about what I want when baby comes, because I don't want pain meds, or anything but what happens naturally, and that means I'm out in left field and therefore, crazy. I'm hoping I go into labor when he isn't around, which makes me feel terrible, but it's true. Part of what makes me so mad/sad is that I don't know how to respond to him when he makes comments like "Are you just sitting there growing?" in front of our friends/family. (I had my legs crossed at the ankle and my anklet dig into my skin-like it would for anyone). I've always treated him with respect (or at least, I think I have...), even when I was so mad I couldn't see straight, and never intentionally put him down, or said something to hurt him-and he doesn't extend that same kindness to me. I've never been very good at being assertive or confrontational-I'm very good at keeping the peace, though-which means my stress level is pretty fair.
He's gone hunting right now until Saturday, and quite frankly I wish he'd just stay gone. At least I can put my feet up like I'm supposed to-I'm about 5 minutes from being put on bedrest from the swelling. I eat tons of good quality animal protein-well over 100 grams a day, because I've read that lack of protein is what causes preeclampsia-and depression, but I'm still swollen as ever. I can't do that when he's home because I feel guilty. For taking care of myself!
: I always had this notion that I'd enjoy being pregnant, and someone asked me monday if I've enjoyed it, and my gut reaction was "not at all." I always thought husbands were supposed to be supportive when you were pregnant. His best friend is more supportive than my husband is-telling me to hang in there and don't take what he says to heart. All I've gotten out of it from DH is harassment about my weight and stretch marks and how I've changed, and how he can't wait for me to get back to "being me".
I don't even remember who that was. And what's worse, is I'm not sure I care.
Sorry this is so long. I'll be impressed if anyone makes it this far. I just don't know what to do. And the sad thing is that I'm normally a very happy, positive person. Thanks for listening.....so much this not turning into a novel. Or a rant.