Are we there yet?

I am so done being pregnant.  My due date is almost exactly 3 months away.  That's discouraging.  With Keilana I was induced 9 days after she was due (actually, 8 days, but she didn't arrive until 38 hours later, so she was 9 days late), but had the circumstances--my mom leaving the island, Doug's graduation rapidly approaching, still having to pack and ship my entire apartment--been a little different, I could've been pregnant another week or two and not cared.  I really wasn't that uncomfortable, save for the inhuman amount of swelling that made my ankles disappear altogether and made my fingers look like sausages (hey, I was 9 months pregnant in Hawaii in June--it was hot and HUMID!).  With Dylan, I had a very exhausting and mildly nauseous first trimester, and a miserable last month and a half of constant pressure on my sciatic nerve, so I was pretty ready to be done when we induced 10 days passed his due date (and arrived barely into the 11th day--but only 18 hours this time, a huge improvement over his sister's stubborn refusal to leave my body).   But I have never been this ready to be done being pregnant this early on.  Last Friday I had a friend over at the house and joked that they should just induce me on Halloween.  Its starting to sound like a good idea.

The whole first trimester I was pretty much constantly nauseous, and threw up multiple times about every other day.  I was fighting to stay awake constantly, and at least once a week would get one of those horrid migraines that takes over your whole head and makes the slightest noise or flash of light unbearable.  And I live with Keilana--I love my daughter, but she's a shrieker and a yeller.  Through the first half of the second trimester, the fatigue continued unabated, but the nausea slowed to about one day a week, with no throwing up, and the headaches became way less severe and only hit about once every two weeks.  Then, the last few weeks I had this glorious reprieve where I felt really good, my energy was normal, I was able to eat as much as I wanted (probably more than I should have, actually) and exercising actually helped increase my energy rather than leave me feeling drained.  

Now, heading into the third trimester, I can't stand being around myself.  The fatigue has returned with a vengeance--no matter how healthy I eat and exercise and sleep, I feel like I'm running on little to no rest.  This little pill in my tummy is still putting a bunch of pressure on my pelvis, kidneys and stomach, but now she's also big enough that she pushes against my ribs and makes me breathe much harder when I'm going about my daily activities.  All of that wouldn't be so bad, as I've done all that before and find it annoying but tolerable. 

The worst part of all is that I never remember being this ridiculously hormonal.  I have no patience--with the kids, with Doug, with myself.  The littlest things irritate or just outright tick me off--I have no idea how to deal with such emotions, since my nature generally is to barely notice life's little irritations.  Most days being patient with my kids or myself or anyone else comes fairly easily to me.  Not so much these days.  The stupidest little things make me want to yell at my kids, which certainly doesn't make them behave any better.  Usually, my husband's more annoying habits or less desirable traits are pretty easy for me to just ignore or be patient with, but I'm turning into a nit-picker lately.  Thankfully, he has dealt with all of this quite well with a big dash of humor in that so-utterly-lacking-in-charm-that-its-charming manner that he employs so well.  I want to do nothing about 90% of the time, but become incredibly frustrated and angry with myself if I just sit around, so I'm not relaxing anyway.  Normally happy to be engaged in multitasking, I don't want to do anything--I want to hire a nanny and a maid, quit my job, get released from my calling, have my groceries delivered, get a secretary/accountant and spend all day every day in bed reading.

But the kicker is that I've turned into a crier.  I hate crying, particularly if there is anyone in the room but me and, consequently, I don't do it much normally.  But I'll get so frustrated at myself for yelling at my poor, pent up 4 year old all day that I'll shed tears of aggravation.  Doug will say the wrong thing or say something the wrong way and the next thing I know I've got tears.  If I have to speak in front of people or in a roomful of people for any reason, even if its not anything I feel particularly strongly about, my voice wavers all over the place.  Its as if my brain can't tell the difference anymore--since my normal speaking voice is relatively low most of the time if I speak up my brain thinks I must be upset and tries to make me start crying.  

I must get my hormones back to normal because I am driving myself crazy!!