I can totally attribute my meltdown last night to my pregnant state. What other reasonable explanation is there?
Let me explain. I've been battling nausea for days now. Add utter exhaustion and lack of good sleep and you have a very, very cranky person. So yesterday matters came to a head. I had to give the house a thorough clean down to prepare for my mom's week-long visit on Sat. And then I had to work on my presentation which is really complex and is due the week after mom's visit.. How's that for stress?
Anyways, I began the clean. Background: I'm a great house cleaner. I do it by multi-tasking, which means I attack every single thing in each and every room at the same time. My husband can't usually understand the mayhem as he is the 'attempt one, finish one before moving on' type of person. So my messy madness is confusing to him. But at least in housecleaning, I reign superior (to him, at least). I finish cleaning everything super fast and with everything in the place it is supposed to be.
However, yesterday, this did not happen. And not only was it surprising to me - I totally lost it. I began the cleaning as usual and then slowly nausea and exhaustion overcame me. I thought another room may make it better so moved on. Thank goodness we have only a one bedroom or the mess would have been worse. In my desire to put things in their rightful place, I swore at every conceivable object wondering why humans even need things. I decided that I hated clothes (both laudered and unlaudered), dishes, cooking, vacumming, dusting, ironing, walking, eating, sitting...and yes, I think I even disliked breathing, yesterday. Too much effort all this.
So what did I do? Right in the middle of the maelstorm, I left everything the way it was and lay down for a nap that took me THREE hours to come out of. I was dead to the world for those three hours. I wish I could say that I woke up refreshed. Instead I woke up to more nausea and now hunger. But I had no food cooked and I had a messy house. Let me just say that the house looked pretty clean before I attacked it. It just needed some superficial weekly upkeep - but no, superwoman here, decided it needed DEEP cleaning for mom. Mom, who always says that she just wants to be with us and doesn't give two hoots about the cleanliness, or lack thereof, of the house. But who ever listens to moms anyway. I wanted everything to be great for her visit since we are going to give her THE news this weekend.
Okay, fast forward to early evening, nausea is sickeningly worse and I'm so tired that I can barely move between rooms. The dog decides she's hungry and after eating decides that she absolutely needs to go outside for her daily walk. I. Dragging myself to walk her outside, I decided that I hated walking, just hate it. In fact why do we even need legs. If we didn't have legs, I would not have struggled to get them into my jeans. Anyway, I digress. After the walk, I realize that I have not attempted to read any scientific papers for my talk, the house looks like a hurricane hit it, my husband was due back from work and I had no dinner ready, and I just wanted to lie down and rest for a long long time.
So then I did what I almost never do but found quite relieving: I cried. And cried and cried. I had angry tears that none of those stupid pregnancy books mentioned how hard the first few weeks would be, that eating crackers does NOTHING for my nausea, that napping does NOTHING to refresh me. Then I cried tears of self-pity. I wanted my mom to be there right then and make it all better. And more self-pity, that even though I'm so grateful to have baby growing in me, I can't cope with these first few weeks. How can I be so weak and complaining when women have been doing this since the beginning of time and I've never really heard women complain. And then, I cried more silly tears for my bad housekeeping skills and my lack of ability as a cook. I tell you I went full force with those tears.
In the middle of this teary period, my husband call to let me know he was on his way home. Of course, he was so worried when he heard me crying. Especially since I rarely break down. He spoke to me the whole way back. I told him all my 'hates' and then I added that I hated 'beans' and 'brown rice' and 'herbs' and 'spices' and what were thinking when we decided to go vegetarian and eat healthy. No, I decided I hated that. I told him that I wanted to eat both a pizza with lots of cheese and a Wendy's spicy chicken sandwich for dinner. But no, all we had were wonderful healthy vegetables, good-for-you beans and fiber-full rice. I was having none of it. Poor hubby heard my uncharacteristic ranting patiently all through his 30 min commute and spoke to me right until he entered the door.
He took a look at the mess but the sweetheart that he is, he didn't say a word about it. Instead, he made me lay in bed, comforted me with hugs and kisses, fed me strawberries, and then proceeded to make a healthy absolutely delicious whole wheat pizza with broccoli, eggs, mushroom and onions FROM SCRATCH. Yes, right from making the dough himself!!! This after being exhausted working 12 hour shifts for past two weeks. He did the dishes after and tidied the kitchen. He made enough for me for lunch so I would not have to worry about it.
How I lucked out to get a wonderful, loving partner like this, I don't know. I was moved to, yes, more tears, this time in gratitude for being blessed so. I ate well at dinner, thanks to him, managed to have less nausea, and slept a little more calmly. Albeit with a stuffed nose, thanks to, ahem, all that crying!!!
Today started out great and I'm having less nausea and the house in being attacked. I'll show'em unfolded clothes just who's boss!!