Dear husband, please don’t hate me.
I won’t be pregnant forever.
I know I’m difficult right now. I know my mood swings are all over the place. But please, love me anyway. I want to rip my hair out; you want to run away. I don’t blame you, but I can’t change how I am. I can’t help how I feel. I’m irrational, inconsiderate, short-tempered. But, baby, I promise, this won’t last forever.
I never want to hurt you. I don’t want to be angry and annoyed. Motherhood is hard. Pregnancy hormones completely change who I am, and I can’t avoid that. I need you to be patient with me. I know I’m asking so much of you. I see your face when I respond to you—the words flew out of my mouth with that petulant tone before I could stop them.
Sometimes I can’t stand who I am right now. I can’t handle it if you hate me too.
Do you remember our honeymoon? Our first year of marriage? Do you remember how we couldn’t get enough of each other? We held hands everywhere we went, we snuggled on the couch watching a movie. We went on weekend dates and watched the stars together. Oh, husband, I still love you that much. I don’t blame you for doubting me, but I swear it’s true.
This isn’t me. I want to want you. I want to need you to hold me and kiss me. But right now, I don’t. I need space. And it won’t last forever.
Someday soon I’ll be the woman you know again. Someday soon I won’t feel discomfort in every ounce of my being. Someday my aches and exhaustion, my hormones and emotions won’t be spilling out onto everyone and everything around me. But for now, I can’t control it.
Everyone painted pregnancy as this glorious picture. A warrior woman, glowing, an embodiment of power. There was a fantasy of a mother and father creating a perfect life for their little one to come into. Waiting for that life-altering moment with joy. Both radiating with love for each other and for the life they were creating.
But pregnancy isn’t like that. Yes, it’s beautiful. But it’s also ugly.
The exhaustion, the sickness, the emotional makeover, and the body changes are messy. Pregnancy is a beautiful, ugly mess. And we get caught in the middle— it makes sense that things get muddled along the way. It makes sense that you want to stay out of my way—you’d rather stay on the other side of the house than risk an interaction with me.
My body is doing amazing things. Miraculous things. Creating a life from you and me—and we’re so blessed to be given this gift. But gifts demand sacrifice, and that sacrifice is me. My body, my mind. Just as my body grows and changes, just as it adapts to accommodate a temporary resider, my mind must also change and adapt.
You can’t see these changes. You can’t see why I snap at you for trying to rub my shoulders. You can’t understand why I’m angry at you for not picking up your socks. You don’t know how hard I’ve held my tongue all day—I really want to love you, but instead, I’m yelling at you.
Husband, I promise—I promise—I love you.
I know you’re trying your best. I see you walking on eggshells around me. You wonder what happened to your wife and if is this what you’re stuck with now. It’s not. For a little while, yes, but not forever.
So please, love me as you’ve always loved me. Give me the space I require and remember I love you so much. Even if I don’t always show it. Be there for me, even when I push you away. Be the emotional support for me. I promise I need you. Just be patient for a little while.
Pregnancy doesn’t last forever . . .
It’ll be worth it.