Truest

Mar 26, 2017

I put off writing today, hoping I’d be struck by a good mood and have something not whiney to say. And while there were genuinely good parts of the day and countless blessings to be grateful for, the fact of the matter is that things have been hard lately and I don’t feel super chipper about it. I did my best to play it off and be funny about it yesterday, but it was a hard evening.

I spent yesterday morning trekking around the national zoo, which if you’ve been there you know is one giant hill. It was good to be with friends and good to get out with the kids, but about five steps inside the gate I knew it was going to take a toll on my body. Then the crowds pressed in and made it harder to enjoy. But praise be to the Lord for friends who make even the busiest, pregnant-est days at the zoo feel worth it just to be in their company.

When I got home I was determined not to waste the rest of the day with a nap, but it was no use. I didn’t sleep, but I never mustered up the energy to do anything else. I did get up to shower out of sheer need to change out of sweaty jeans that felt like they were getting tighter on my swollen body by the minute, but the shower turned out to be a low point in and of itself.

I hate having hairy legs. I know some people relish winter months where they can get away with not shaving regularly, but I am not that way. I’d so much rather have smooth, shaven legs even under long pants. It’s just more comfortable. But when I set out to shave in the shower yesterday, I’d put one foot up on the stool (oh how I loathe tiny corner showers) and the foot on the ground would get so swollen that it just hurt to stand up. Then I’d switch legs and repeat the whole miserable thing. I tried to sit down on the stool, but there wasn’t room to move.

I try to cure my moping with problem solving. I say to myself, “ok that’s bugging you, so what can you do about it?” and then I think through possible solutions. Usually this helps a lot and jumpstarts my mood and propels me forward. But yesterday it just resulted in me finding out that a reputable-looking waxing sesh (to save me from shaving) was around $75 PER LEG and it left me feeling more than a little like someone from pioneer times peeking in through the window of the future to see indoor plumbing and knowing it was possible and available, but tragically out of their budget. I felt pathetic and then cried about it for what I wish I could say wasn’t hours, but it was and that just made it all more pathetic. And then I woke up this morning with double bags under my eyes and puffy eyelids that could have rivaled my sister’s that one time she got stung by a bug on her eyelid at the lake.

All this compounded by the fact that we’re not poor college students anymore and we really probably could afford that if I made it a priority, but we have fifteen other worthy priorities and we’re in the middle of buying a house right now and I feel too selfish and ridiculous spending that much money on just not having to shave. I’m not that delirious.

Still, I confess it didn’t send me into the general women’s conference last night with the best of outlooks on life and as I listened to that woman’s “can can” list I felt like writing a post about what’s on my “can can” list, mainly that I can whine and complain about anything I want. There were good parts too. Of course there are always good parts in general conference. But that didn’t stop me from feeling grumpy and self-pitying as I cried like a self-proclaimed martyr through most of it.

I feel simultaneously half ridiculous and half justified in writing this post and sharing all these real but also very first world struggles. Because they are real, but they’re also not life and death and I know plenty of people personally who have it worse than me right now. It feels wrong to complain when I know about so much pain and heartache others are going through. And honestly the last thing I want is for some person to surprise me with a free day at the spa. I’m not asking anyone to pat me on the shoulder or try to make it better, I’m just claiming a moment to address my own personal struggles, silly and stupid and selfish as they may be.

The more uncomfortable it gets the more lonely I feel, cooped up in this bulging body. Not being able to do the things I want to do or be present and able with the people I care about or have the energy to be happy when the kids are being loud. It’s hard to be the person I want to be when all my body wants to do is sleep and sit down. It’s not who I am and that’s hard. But it is who I am to try and do my best and take care of my family and caring for this baby growing inside of me is part of that right now. I try to remind myself of that all the time, but the truth is, it’s still lonely and boring and a lot of the time I end up alone on the couch while Bryan’s taking care of everything and the kids are off playing and I’m bored and refreshing my instagram feed hoping for something new to see or read or keep me busy as I sit there and wait for whatever it is I’m waiting for. Breakfast or dinner or to feel better or for the kids to go to bed.

I hope I haven’t been whining out loud (or in print) as much as I’ve been doing it in my head, but even in my head it’s exhausting. And I’m sorry if I’ve been doing it here. I’m sorry I’m doing it right now. It’s not the kind of writing I want to be subjecting anyone to. I don’t want to be remembered for this. But my hands and feet are too swollen to write funny right now, goofy as I might look in real life. It’s hot and it’s not even April yet. It’s hot and everyone else is cold. I’m sweating through my days for no apparent reason and it’s tiring and draining to be sure. The world doesn’t need another dialogue on what it’s really like to be pregnant, but I’m selfishly writing it anyway in the hope that it’ll help me out of this funk or, at the very least, better organize my thoughts.

I’m tired now. Bryan fell asleep hours ago when we first got back in for the evening and I’ve been sitting alone ever since feeling bored and restless for sunnier, post-pregnancy days. But for now it’s just time to keep inching along this slowing timeline that is human growth and go to bed.

4 thoughts on “Truest

  1. Emily says:

    This might be your post that I relate to the most. I try so hard to not complain (especially during pregnancy), but it’s okay to acknowledge when you are in the middle of a struggle. Pregnancy is dang hard work and so exhausting–physically and emotionally. It seems the hormones get me stuck in my own thoughts and it is a tug-of-war between self-pity and optimism. And even though my most recent pregnancy came to completion almost 3 months ago, I’m still riding those hormonal waves and gripping my sanity with the tips of my fingernails. I haven’t watched the Women’s Broadcast yet, but the highlights I’ve read on IG have given me a greater desire to set aside time for scripture study and I’m confident it will make a huge difference. Hang in there, sis. You still inspire me to no end. I love that you are writing and being real. Big hugs from OC.

    Like

  2. Lisa says:

    I have nothing to say except I’m so sorry you’re feeling this way.
    Also, if it makes you feel better, there was a client once at Hill, Johnson, and Schmutz that wanted to sue a spa for botching her wax job (or maybe it was laser hair removal…) Anyhow, the pictures of her legs were scary! Maybe Bryan can shave your legs for you. 😂

    Liked by 1 person

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