This is an open letter to my husband. I know that I’m hormonal and hard to live with and my emotions are all over the place. I promise I’m not doing it on purpose to dive you crazy. Only 10 weeks left till we meet our baby girl and I can start to go back to normal. Yes, it will take even more time, and I might get worse before I get better. But please remember these ten things when you are frustrated, confused or simply angry with my behavior.
10 things I need my husband to remember while I’m pregnant:
- I feel ugly. I feel gross. I feel huge and stretched out. I can’t control the temperature of my body. One minute I’m sweating like a baboon in heat and the next I have goosebumps. I apologize for the constant sweating, it’s worse for me, I promise. I’m finding it harder and harder each day to control my bladder. I know the late night bathroom breaks must be keeping you up at night, honestly I’m worried I’m going to pee the bed while I’m sleeping and wake up to you screaming because your soaked in my piss. My body is changing, and it’s hard. I was used to way it was and now I have to learn to love it all over again. I also have this irrational and vain fear that you will no longer love me when you realize what a mess my body will be once our bundle of love arrives.
- Nothing fits me. My normal clothes are getting shorter and shorter as the belly grows bigger and bigger. I know you think I have a shopping addiction already, But I honestly need a few pieces that I can wear and not run the risk of looking like I’m wearing a belly shirt exposing our un-born child.
- It’s very hard to go pregnancy clothes shopping. Please see number 1. I feel ugly and gross and now I have to go get undressed down to my skivvies and try on new frumpy clothes in a fluorescent, 3-way mirrored dressing room where every extra pound and stretch mark is highlighted to its glorious fullest. In the end, nothing will fit and I will leave the store emotional and with nothing to wear, making me feel depressed and even uglier than before.
- I know my boobs look great. I know that they have grown closer to the size that you secretly wish I had all the time. Please just don’t touch them. They hurt. I get instant, coursing pain throughout each boob at any given minute. You don’t get it, they really hurt; and you’re groping of them doesn’t help.
- I don’t want to have sex for that matter either. Again, I feel huge and ugly which does not equal a turned on wife. I’m sweaty. I have a basketball in my stomach so it’s going to be awkward anyway. It has nothing to do with you, but please stop asking. Maybe in a few months.
- I do not control my cravings. So when I ask for guacamole at 3 in the morning for a snack, can you try to not get mad at me and just go buy some god damned guacamole, please? I will only continue to ask for some until the point at which I can shove as much as possible into my mouth at once.
- Could you please stand up for me. When people make comments like “Are you going to try for a third?” “How much weight have you gained?” or “Is that all your eating?” or even “Really, another dessert?”. People should really keep their opinions to themselves, but they don’t. Could you please stand up for me, so I don’t have to in my already emotional state.
- Nesting is a real thing. The fact that we are only 10 weeks away and the only thing that we have done is paint an empty room is in fact causing me to panic. Every action item of what we (But mostly I) need to do, buy and clean runs through my brain on a daily basis causing me to panic more and become anxious which is not healthy. So please get your shit together, so I can sit in the room and fold clothes and organize the diapers to calm my nerves.
- Yes, I’m napping as if in back in college. Don’t comment on it. I’m tired. So very tired. For no reason. I’m also out of breath for no reason at all, so please just let me rest when I can. I will be a let grumpier me if I can just rest for a few minutes here and there.
- Love me. Try to understand everything that I’m going through physically and emotionally and just love me. Even in my huge, sweaty, emotional state, please try to remember why you fell in love with me in the first place and that at the end of all of this we will have another beautifully perfect daughter. I need lots of extra love right now. Just don’t ask for sex, remember.