I need to take a minute or perhaps a lifetime to thank my amazing husband.
KC has been unbelievably supportive during my pregnancy. He has been to every prenatal appointment, ultrasound, birthing class, breast feeding class. He has baked brownies. He has had ice cream for dinner. He has slept with Sadie in a separate room so I can have a good night’s rest. He has gone maternity clothes shopping with me. He has helped me clean and begin prepping our baby’s nursery. He has rubbed my shoulders. He has bought me a myriad of antacids. He has told me how beautiful I am. He picks up things I drop. He has walked Sadie more often than not. He truly is amazing. I am incredibly lucky to have a husband who wants to be this involved. I have many concerns about labor and delivery and how difficult parenting is going to be but I feel much better knowing that I have this amazingly solid and supportive husband.
KC is the type of husband you see in a rom-com when you are a kid that takes care of his pregnant wife and then you see the wife snapping at him and you are thinking “That bitch, if I had a husband like that I would never treat him that way.” And I am THAT bitch.
Despite all these amazing things he does, I still find myself snapping at him. I am not that pregnant lady who cries at the drop of the hat. I am that pregnant lady who cannot seem to keep a thought to herself. I feel the need to make a sarcastic comment, roll my eyes or audibly sigh. To be fair, I am not much of crier pre-pregnancy and sarcastic comments have always come a lot quicker than feeling you know, real emotions. But, I think the fact that KC is being so extra perfect and I am feeling so extra out of control is making me feel a little crazy.
Luckily, at this current point in pregnancy I can recognize that I am a bit wacky and tell him before I snap or after. I let him know “I slept shitty last night, I worked 11 hours, I have heartburn and I feel like a fat piece of shit. I am not in my right mind but it has nothing to do with you.” He empathizes and usually offers me some kind of dessert treat (he really just gets me). But like 5 minutes later I am annoyed by the fact that he doesn’t know what temperature to set the oven to to reheat said dessert… “Broil it” I will say with an eye roll. He laughs and turns the oven to 350 and act like I am nice human.
Part of my inner dialogue is “Good. I am carrying his baby. The least he can do is take a few comments. This dude needs to figure out how to use an oven anyways.” Then the other part of me is “I guess technically she is my baby too, and he is doing all that he can to help. He prob will learn to cook better if I explain things nicely” And by inner dialogue I mean I say this all out-loud like that crazy person you see on the bus talking to themselves.
To sum it up, KC is a much better human being than I am and I am actually okay with that. I feel very lucky to have him as my best friend, husband and partner. I also can recognize I must not be so terrible if such an amazing man can love me back. And, I will try my best to remind myself of this when he is making dad jokes and I have the urge to punch him in the throat.