Monday, September 08, 2014
this is grumpy
They turn out pretty cute (at least Rae did...from my biased perception), so I've got that going for me. But getting them here is just not my favorite thing in the world. I feel like I'm not allowed to say that out loud, because it might be perceived as ungrateful or taking this gift for granted. But that's really not the case. I'm very grateful. And very uncomfortable. All the time. Enduring the physical pain from this pregnancy has pushed my mental and physical limits twice as far as ever before.
At church people ask me how I'm feeling. They're so nice to ask, and I know they really care. I'm sure they see me wincing as I waddle down the hallways. And it's hard not to notice when my cute husband brings a comfy 'relief-society' chair to all my classes for me so I don't start crying half-way through. But for some reason I still have a hard time giving an honest response. "I'm good..... just counting down until baby is here..." is usually my reply....or some variation of that. In reality, I really want to say, "Horrible. I feel like death. It takes all my strength not to walk around giving life two huge middle fingers."
The other day, while trudging down the hallway, a nice old grandpa stopped me, put his hand on my shoulder and said "This. too. shall. pass..." Thank you for that, old grandpa who I've never met.
Saturday I was walking through target in an attempt to keep contractions coming (it's still too hot outside), and I ran into one of the cute girls I work with from church. She looked me up and down and said, "Sister Frame, you are SO big." Thank you for that, cute little teenager who I nearly slapped in the face.
Have you seen Father of the Bride Part 2? Where the wife and the daughter are pregnant at the same time? And the daughter, pregnant with her first, keeps having false alarms and going to the hospital, only to be sent home early? Well, that's how I feel. Except I never quite make it to the hospital. On Friday I had painful contractions every 5-7 minutes for SIX AND A HALF hours. Six and a half hours, you guys. Garrett had his toothbrush packed in his hospital bag and practically had his shoes on.
But here I am. Still very pregnant. And still in so much pain.
I know this is grumpy. Just trying to keep it real. And honestly, when I look back on this time, I'm okay remembering how tough it really is because I'll also know how it was all worth it, one million times over.
Of course it's not all hard. We're soaking up our last days as a family of three....spoiling Rae with as many cuddles and giggles as we can. Every night before bed time we have 'cuddle-time' as Rae calls it. We sit in our 'cuddle chair' and Rae rests her head on my shoulder with her arms wrapped around my neck. We rock back and forth and sing songs. About a week ago she suddenly started singing along to every single song...and she knew almost all the words. Her sweet little voice, following along to 'You Are My Sunshine' or 'Twinkle Twinkle Little Star' might just be my favorite thing in the whole wide world. Every night I squeeze her tight and give her extra kisses and pray that she always knows just how much love I have for her.
Everyday I am reminded how there is no one I'd rather do this whole life-thing with than G Frame. I'm convinced that there has never been a better husband. I think what I'm most grateful for right now, above all the dinners he's cooked, and all the cleaning he's done, and how much he's taken charge with Rae, is his ability to make me laugh even when I'm having a hard time. He is my best friend.
And also this. Because....gotta keep it real.