Cuz I'm Pregnant Badge

Yesterday I was walking down our upstairs hall and the wall hit me in the shoulder (Yes, it hit me. Not the other way around). I slapped it with my hand and kicked it with my foot while shouting, "What the 'f'"?

Last week I was standing in the kitchen and I realized we were out of something I wanted and I stomped my feet on the ground -- in front of the kids.

In the past month I've had to turn myself from a psycho mother into a "scary monster" more times than I can count. Do you ever do that? I freak out for a second while the kids stare at me wide-eyed and then I quickly change gears and pretend in a loud, booming voice that grumble, grumble, "I'm a big monster." I'm telling you it works.

I got so emotional watching The Blind Side in the waiting room during Jack's appendectomy that I couldn't look over at the TV. There wasn't even any sound. And don't get me started on Andrea Bocelli's lullaby to Elmo. Ball city.

I'm constantly tired. I'm constantly annoyed. I don't want to see anyone. I've lost all sense of FOMO. I'm a recluse. I want to sit on my couch all day and then cry about how lonely, sad, despairing and desperate I am. What has happened to the super fun, let's hang out, always up in everyone's business Lauren?

Michael keeps telling me it's "cuz you're pregnant that you're crazy." Is it? What if I've morphed into someone totally different? What if I've lost me? What if the b-witch switch has been permanently turned on?

I know my body is in overdrive -- I'm producing more blood, my heart is working harder, my pulse is 10-15 beats faster per minute, my fat cells are expanding :). I am a baby factory. I guess that could make a difference in how a gal feels, right? Tell me it's true.

So all this to say, I want so desperately to pull the "cuz I'm pregnant" card. I deserve it. I'm hard at work and quite fatigued just sitting here eating peanut butter and crackers.

But guess what happened? As soon as I'm about to settle in for a night of self pity and reflection (writing this blog post), there's a knock on my door. It's one of my girlfriends and her husband dropping off a book of mine. I begin my usual rant of how much it sucks to be pregnant and then I remember. I remember that she and her husband have been trying for awhile -- after a devastating miscarriage -- to get pregnant with their first baby. Ugh. Lauren, just shut up.

I know my feelings are real. I feel them. They feel true to me - I really felt like I wanted to fight my wall. But when does it come time to just say to yourself, "Suck it up? You're pregnant. Lucky you. Do you know how many women long to be in your shoes? Quit your whining and be thankful -- sucka."

So tonight I'm stuffing my "Cuz I'm Pregant" card back in my pocket. I'm sure it will resurface. But for now I'm picking a "Cuz I'm Grateful" one.