Unbalanced

I honestly can't believe it's been a month since I've posted.  If I don't get a handle on this time thing pretty soon, I'm going to be sitting here with a newborn that I'm completely unprepared for.

This pregnancy has thrown me for a complete loop emotionally.  I'm an angry, rageful, crying, out-of-control witch.  The hormone swings are intolerable to me - much less my poor loved ones that are forced to live with me.  The only one that has been spared is the two year old, really.  To be honest, Monk takes the lion's share.  Why he hasn't left me is completely beyond me.  And quite frankly, sometimes I feel like I'm pushing him to make that decision.  Which is really strange - because I feel like I'm living duplicate lives at the same time.  The old rational me is still there watching over the reactions and decisions that the hormonal witch is making and just letting her run wild and use the excuse of hormones.  It's ridiculous.  As bad as it is - it feels temporary.  Like ...don't fight it too much because this too shall pass.  In a matter of 9 weeks or so now...I'm hoping it's done and over with.  I feel like I'm on the brink - maybe passed the brink on some days - of really experiencing true mental illness.   What absolutely terrifies, me, however, is that I feel like I'm speeding right towards a massive case of post partum depression.  My hormone switch has NEVER been even close to being this far off balance and I'm not sure what I'm going to be looking at when they pull the baby out and all the hormones come crashing down around me.  For the first time, I've felt tempted to start on medication as a pre-emptive strike.  And then the blaring reality of birth defects and side effects snaps me back into reality and I neglect to discuss it at my OB appointments.

Things on the physical front still suck too ....I still can NOT flipping breathe if I do anything.  Climbing a flight of stairs leaves me so short of breath and exhausted that I have to sit and rest.  A load of laundry is enough to do me in.  And getting the baby and myself showered and primped for the day typically happens right before nap.  Because I have to nap after such a grand effort.  To continue my life's predisposition for really bad timing, my job is changing significantly and I am now required to be much, much more physically active.  As in walking.  At break neck speeds.  All over the flipping place.  I wore a pedometer the other day - and with me moving as slow as I do compared to my counterparts, I still walked 7 miles in one 12 hour shift.  I come home from work in a near coma with my pelvis feeling dislocated.  I have a whole lot of time off built into my schedule now ...stretches of 5 or 6 days off every couple of weeks ...and I need every one of them to recover.  The pelvic pain hasn't been nearly as severe with this pregnancy as it was the last ...and it actually goes away completely when I'm off work ...but my god ..when it's there, every single step is excruciating. 

And ...of course ...I'm diabetic again.  Which, although I was fully anticipating it, is really seriously pissing me off.  My blood sugars have not been nearly as easy to control this time around despite a multi dose regimen including 6-7 shots of insulin per day.  I need massive doses of insulin in the morning even if I don't eat - and close to none at dinner.  All part of the raging hormones that are throwing me for a loop in every way, I guess.  I feel incredibly guilty every time I have an out of range blood sugar - even if it's only 10 points out of range, and because of that, I'm trying to eat close to nothing.  I've lost 6 pounds in the week and a half since diagnosis ...which I don't think is good either.

I'm a mess.  Straight up ...all the way around.  A mess.   We have no prep done for the baby.  We haven't even started moving baby A2 towards a new schedule that will give us some kind of sanity with 2 little ones.  I don't have a name or any idea of a name that might sound good.  I have no sleeping space arranged.  No second crib.  No double stroller.  No idea where to move most of A2's toys to make room for all the "stuff" that's required for A3.  ARRRRGH.