Identity Crisis

In high school, I think I was a fun time. In college, I know I was a fun time. Even post-college, I would venture to say that I was still a pretty fun time. In pregnancy, however, I suck. I never wanted to be one of those pregnant people who would just sit around and mope about how sick they feel, tired they are, how they can’t drink, the list goes on and on. But here I am, doing just that. It honestly makes me think that the source behind my fun personality was often all drawn from alcohol, and that the only reason I would have so much fun was because I would liquor myself up and YOLO the hell out of everything I did. Take that liquid courage away, and I’ve discovered I’m really a very boring person.

The number one question I get from anyone I see is “how are you feeling?” How am I supposed to be feeling? “Fine” is my standard response, because I simply do not know what answer people are looking for. Do they want me to tell them that I feel blessed every moment of every day about this little miracle growing inside me, and I am just so pleased with all the wonderful changes that are happening to my body (which might be true if I sat and thought about it, but that sure as shit isn’t the first thing that pops into my head)? Or are they expecting me to go on and on about how my feet are swollen, I walk like I have a stick shoved up my ass because I worked out two days ago and I’m still sore, or that I feel like a hippo? It seems to me this answer would make me seem like a negative person, and that certainly is not the personality type that I am going for. So I just stick to the standard “fine”, and see how deep they want to divulge into that response.

I wish that I could say that my personality hasn’t changed one bit, but that would be a bold-faced lie, and that is what I am trying to stay away from in my blog. Rather, I have discovered that I am a very lazy person. The option to sleep in 100% always wins over going out for an early morning run, going to a late dinner, seeing friends, or pretty much anything else exciting that I could participate in. And this is all during the second trimester, or the trimester hailed for all the “extra energy” I would have. Even running, which was the main staple of my life pre-pregnancy and the only thing that had the capability to calm me in times of stress, is completely exhausting to me. After runs of only 3-4 miles (short background knowledge, I would easily run 5 miles during lunch breaks and bust out 10-13 mile runs most weekends), I am so sore and tired that I am completely out of commission for at least 2 days. On the plus side, I get so many thumbs up from people on the trail when I run, even at my slow as molasses pace, that I want to keep running despite the pain and soreness just to feel cool about myself and keep receiving kudos from passer-byers. I don’t ever want to do pre-natal yoga (I hate yoga, so I can only imagine that pre-natal yoga would be a sweet form of torture for me). So I sleep instead. Or I eat. My new personality really does suck.

To give myself a little bit of credit, I have tried to force myself out to enjoy different events as much as possible, but just nowhere near my pre-preggy self. My husband and I have planned a super fun baby-moon in a few weeks, so I’m seriously hoping that this will bust me out of the comatose state that I have been locked in. We are planning a trip to Vegas, then road-tripping to LA and the Santa Monica Pier, then back to Vegas. This trip encompasses everything that I would ever want out of a vacation, and if I am a wet blanket through the whole thing I will just die. I want to do everything in Vegas that I haven’t been able to do before because I have been too drunk (seriously, have you ever really thought of all the fun things there are to do in Vegas if you could just control the drinking?). And I have been purchasing lots of winter adventure items for little Harper, so that when she comes into this world, she will get to start her life living the YOLO spirit as well, despite the chilly weather. She is going to be a little winter marshmallow, and the thought of this brings the biggest smile to my face. Despite the bitching, I am starting to get incredibly excited to meet our little girl!

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