I'm just going to go ahead and apologize now

I'm a bitch.  I feel bitchy.  I act bitchy.  And most of the time, I don't feel bad for being one.  Because, I reason, if you couldn't sleep past 5 a.m. - no matter what time you went to bed - you'd feel bitchy, too.

Don't get me wrong, I absolutely love that I'm having a baby and, for the most part, I'm trying to take it all in stride.  I know that my situation is only temporary and that I'm going to miss this, so I deal with the stretch marks and the can't-find-a-bra-that-doesn't-cut-off-circulation. I even laugh about it for the most part.

But damn, there are those days. Emotions uP, dOwN, lEFt, RiGHt - every which way but normal.  One minute things are just rosy and the next minute I'm pissed off because someone looked at me the wrong way.  Then it makes me sad like I'm in the 6th grade again and I cry. Or I worry constantly, which, takes away the joy and contentment that I typically feel about this life-changing event. And that pisses me off. I want my happiness, dammit! I don't want to worry! And then I'm sad again because I'm not in my happy place, which is where I want to be. And it's like EVERYTHING that EVERYONE does is directed toward me, no matter how small.

Like the dumb neighbor who lets his dog roam the neighborhood without a leash. Then, when I try to walk my dog (who outweighs this little dog by a good 70 pounds), the neighbor dog follows us all around the neighborhood, bothering my dog - who is on a leash! How inconsiderate!

Or the building that I work in, where the maintenance team doesn't notify the occupants of my floor - two of whom are expecting - that they're going to be painting all day or doing some other type of construction that smells so bad it can't be good for you.  I mean, shouldn't they have a policy in place to notify tenants of potentially harmful (yet probably just bothersome) activities going on on their floor?

And, heaven forbid if I'm standing in a long line at a department store and it's not moving fast enough. I've had to apologize to probably two checkers already who I got huffy with for no real reason at all.  And I'm just waiting for that next man to come up to me out of the blue and ask me if this was an "accident" or a planned pregnancy. Or the next friend who tells me they're ready for me "not to be pregnant anymore."

Now, I have to be honest though. Mostly, I have gotten more good comments than bad. Most people are telling me that I look great. Mike has been really great about this, too. He is all the time telling me that I'm pretty/beautiful/sexy, and he's good about reminding me that I'm pregnant, not fat, and that there is a difference. I didn't know what to expect from him, but I have to say I've been very pleased at how supportive he's been. It's like he already knows the right things to say. Friends, acquaintances and family have been good, too (except for my dad making some sort of reference to an elephant, which I still don't fully understand...).  Most have been telling me that I look great, like I haven't gained a pound. To which I smile and genuinely thank them. Because they don't know that I've already gained two-thirds of what I really wanted to gain the entire pregnancy and they can't see the ugly stretch marks that I have all down my thighs.