Getting Real with Kira Hazledine
I am a summer child. I have always loved summer. I would relish in the heat and never minded sweating a bit. The sunshine and long days made me happy.
And then I got pregnant in February, promising myself a sweltering summer.
It has ruined my favorite season. You know what that leaves me with? One or two months of joy in the spring. I don’t like fall because that means winter is coming, and I hate winter. So now I guess I just hate 90% of the year. Charming.
I never dreamed a summer pregnancy could be so hard. People warned me, but I love (loved?) summer! Couldn’t be that bad, right? I generally like being pregnant, so I figured people were just not enjoying their pregnancies as much as I enjoy mine. I was pregnant through winter with my first and was jealous of women pregnant in summer. It looked like so much fun in those cute summer dresses!
I was so foolish. Summer pregnancies are hard.
I can’t breathe. The humidity and the heat combined with my child crushing my lungs means that I actually struggle to breathe when I’m laying down, doing nothing. Doing nothing should not take effort. That’s why I do nothing.
And the sweating. There is so much sweat, probably thanks to raging hormones. I haven’t had this many issues with hygiene since puberty.
Staying hydrated is a real bitch, too. It doesn’t matter how many bottles of water I drink. I’m still going to the bathroom every thirty minutes, only to be rewarded with a not-hydrated result in the toilet. Why is that pee yellow? I’ve been working really hard! Extra Braxton hicks are my reward, along with a headache tossed in there. It doesn’t matter that I’ve drank 100+ ounces of water. Dehydration symptoms all day.
I’m devastated as the sun is setting earlier in the sky. I don’t want the crisp fall breeze or the pumpkin spice lattes. (Ok, maybe I want one latte, but only one.) I don’t want to be greeted with frozen temperatures or snow in the morning. I want my breezy summer mornings that don’t need a jacket and afternoons that beg you to go swimming.
But I don’t want it pregnant. Nope. I’m actually looking forward to lower temperatures, just so I can sit on my ass and breathe like a normal person. I’m really bitter about this, and my second born will hear about it.
