Last night, I had my first meltdown of what I expect to be more. The raging hormones combined with preparing for the baby’s arrival got the better of me. A. and I were at a Mexican restaurant in Columbia Heights after going for a swim at the Wilson Aquatic Center. I was hungry and tired (though I loved swimming), and my chicken tacos hadn’t yet arrived. We were talking about apartments. And A. was a bit frustrated because he felt like he couldn’t understand what I want/am looking for (I think we’re getting closer). I started to feel his stress and then the tears spilled over. And how I hate crying in public.
I think I’ve hit the “nesting” stage of pregnancy where all I want to do is have a place that we can call home that is ready for baby. And finding that perfect place and the right amount of space for the right price is more important than ever because we’ll be spending a LOT of time in it. We looked last weekend, then we thought about buying and crunched the numbers, then we went back to plan A. All of that, combined with registering (the list my friends sent me is so long!) and the birthing classes and people telling me that we should get on wait lists for daycare centers NOW (we haven’t decided if daycare or nanny share is the way to go) and trying to stay up with friends and family (I forgot to call a dear friend for her birthday) — it all felt like too much, not to mention the idea of planning for a wedding. That part will have to be on hold. Deep breath, one thing at a time.
It felt good to cry. As A. said, it’s only going to get harder. But he’s supportive, I’m in love, and the overwhelmed feeling is combined with excitement. I told my friend C. today about the meltdown and she nodded — with two babies, I know she gets it. But I also know that it’s all worth it — and that I need to appreciate this magical time in our lives.