The Female Hulk

One of the things, and trust me there have been many, that people have neglected to tell me about pregnancy is the mood swings.  In particular the anger.

By my very nature I am a worrier, have control issues, am an internaliser and am a perfectionist.  Have kind of set myself up for constant failure with those attributes.

I have come to realise in the last month that I've turned into the female version of the hulk, you know losing my temper, no one likes me when I'm angry and generally wanting to smash things.  I seem to have the urge to punch people in the throat when my temper flares, luckily for me I've not given in to that.

So many people said, "It's the hormones" and I played lip service to it, I mean I'm meant to be glowing right?  I'm meant to have that second trimester-have-stopped-decorating-car-parks-with-vomit-glow, not the radioactive I'm-counting-to-a-million-to-stop-me-from-punching-you-in-the-throat or unleashing-sarcastic-hell-that-will-make-you-cry red that I'm currently rocking.

Having googled pregnancy and anger I don't feel so unhinged or alone, but how did no one tell me about this?????

I dropped L off at the train station so he could go into London to meet his friends, poor bloke deserves a reprieve, came home and sobbed for the better part of an hour.  I don't recognise myself and the perfectionist in me won't accept that everyone else is walking around like they are on eggshells around me accepting that it is 'just the hormones'.  I'm mortified.  I'm ashamed.  Worst of all I feel like I've no control over my emotions, or just about any facet of my life, at the moment.

Work is stressful - when is it not - with a Teaching Assistant who is about as useful as titts on a fish and a job share partner covering maternity leave that is leaving me 'to pick up the slack' while she finds her feet.  Oh, and did I mention a parent made a complaint against me because she sent her child into school with shorts and a t-shirt to do outdoor PE in (like about 90% of the other parents) and I let the lesson go ahead with the insistence that all children wear at least a jumper?

To say I feel overwhelmed, out of control, fearful that I'm going to be the worst parent in the world and like I really just 'don't want to people' is an understatement.

Frenemies

As you get older the general consensus is that the pitfalls of friendships and relationships get easier, you're adult therefore better at negotiating disagreements and understanding what motivates you.  Not so much me at the moment.

I had a friend that I was close to, we got each through some really dark tough times but then as is natural in life, we drifted in different directions once our geographical proximity increased.

At first when I heard about the important things going on in her life second and third hand from others, I was hurt and disappointed that I was no longer her go-to friend.

When she got a new best-girlfriend I was devastated and I'm ashamed to say resolved to hate her, I found numerous faults in her and with this new best friend to justify my jealous reaction.  At some point, I took a real good look at my motives and and saw them for what they were - jealousy at being replaced.  I began to accept we had grown a part because I was a grown up.

I mourned the loss of our friendship and closeness for a while and then to be honest I got over it, moved on.  She had become a stranger to me, when we did get together in a group I no longer saw someone I was familiar with.  The things she said and did were a totally different person and I finally let go of her.

Then on one occasion when we were all together she started flirting outrageously with L and with no regard to me or my feelings.  She even bragged about it to me in person. I was incandescent with rage, indignation, paranoia and hurt for a long time.  Again, I realised those feelings were more about my present vulnerable state and insecurities than they were anyone else.  I'd lost a baby, that's no small thing.

I'm due to see her in a few weekends, encouraged and pushed by L, who doesn't understand why we're no longer close, and the hard truth is I don't want to see her.

Even worse than seeing her for a weekend is knowing I'm being surprised for my 40th with her flying out to the US, yet I know her visit isn't about my 40th - it's about her and inserting herself in special occasions where she can have the most impact and receive the most attention.

I can't think of anything worse nor something that I want less than that.

I actually don't need or want her in my life.  At all.

Things They Don't Tell You About a Career in Teaching

When you're training to be a teacher there's a great deal your lecturers will tell you, in fact for the most part your head will feel like it's going to explode will all the new skills and knowledge you're trying to cram into it, but there's a vast amount they DON'T tell you.

1. You never stop being a teacher in hundred little ways from meerkat peering at your ducklings to make sure they're behaving, to constantly having to resist the urge to use your 'teacher voice' when any situation feels like it's heading in the wrong direction.  It never stops.

2. You will hate the sound of your own voice.  You've no idea how true this is for me, I have reached the point where I do not want to talk unless it's via the medium of inarticulate sounds or rapid hand gestures.

3. It's okay to say 'no' to the feeling you must work even though you were in school at 07:30, have brought your uneaten lunch home (twice to both of those), not walked outside in daylight for three days - or was it more? You will wake in the middle of night thinking "Shit! I haven't done so and so".

4.  You will crave solitude like an addict and even if you aren't a bath person you'll start taking them because it's one of the few places where you can get five minutes of echoing silence.

5. Everything is a potential resource or has a lesson or activity in it.  Everything - running that bath?  Maths - capacity and volume, English - the poetry of the sound of the gushing water, PSHE - how fortunate we are have running water, History - Victorian plumbing and the invention of, Geography - water sources, Art/DT painting reflection in water and designing a water floatations, Science - the minerals and additives to found in our water....the list is endless

6. It's possible to loath and love your job in equal measure.  You will hate the endless paperwork, the bureaucratic paperwork that stands in the way of getting your ducklings all right help that they need, the long thankless hours, but you will love being the person your ducklings rush to share something with, love their pictorial offerings, love when you see them working so hard to grasp a concept and you will love their nativity efforts.  Most of all you will love trying to help them unlock their potential and encouraging them every stumbling step along the way.

7. You will be exhausted and frustrated and hungry and needing a pee and you will convey all of that to your ducklings.  Then you'll be saddened that you're turning into one of 'those' teachers, it will break your heart in every possible way but from that you will pause, take a breath and exhale and change.

8. There will be days when you will come home and feel the inexplicable need to cry, your day has been relentless and you've been reactionary to a myriad of last minute decisions for books to be scrutinised for marking, for risk assessments, behaviour reports written, parents who wish to speak to you, lesson plans, gifts for hampers, etc. Some days you cry, some days you say "no" and go out for a meal with friends and some days you just have a bath

Not My Finest Hour

Wednesday morning I woke up jangling and discordant from nightmares and my chatty brain.  Over the years I've slowly learnt that work is just work, I can be passionate and committed to teaching but won't allow it to consume me.

Lately I've not been so good at this.  I've felt stressed and overwhelmed with the weight of doing a job share when the other worker hasn't been pulling their full weight, maybe I did take over and possibly it hasn't occurred to my work partner that I might be struggling.  Work has invaded my dreams and consciousness on every level lately, plus.....I'm 12 weeks pregnant and have been having reoccurring nightmares about losing the baby.

So, when that work colleague came to get me to clean the staff room as it was year group's turn and I saw three foot of dirty dishes, cups and a filthy side (bearing in mind I don't work a Monday and Tuesday) I lost my cool.

What followed next was a temper tantrum of a rant, I bluntly told the entire staff room that I was disgusted by such levels of selfish bone idleness from supposed adults.  I audibly chastised that they were a bunch of adults who most certainly wouldn't leave dirty dishes and crap all over the side at home, so demanded to know why they would do it at work.  I continued with my tirade to say I don't access the staff room, therefore no one has to clear after me so why should I do after other said adults?

I was in such a foul mood the deputy head took me to his office to calm down and once in there I only continued with my rant/temper tantrum.  Not my finest hour.

Basically, I've owned up to being petty and silly for allowing something so trivial to get under my skin, I've also apologised for my childish behaviour but....have point blank refused to clean the staff room moving forward: I don't use it as I work through my break and lunch so the other 'adults' can damn well clear up their own mess!

One Foot in Front of the Other

I'm sitting, alone, in a coffee shop in a food shop, just watching the world go by and processing things.  Once upon a time my anxiety would have prevented me from doing this,  so the fact I drove here - alone - am sitting - alone - is a huge achievement.  I know all things are a journey.

Between you and I I've been somewhat of a crazy obsessed lady lately, it's all been internalised but I've been...target fixated for want of a better phrase.  I lost a baby a few months ago and as you would expect it's been a defining moment for me.  It was a planned pregnancy but neither L and I expected to fall so quickly, so it wasn't really a surprise when I handed him the test and burst into tears.  I could say a dozen things about timings, fears and muted joy but none of that matters, not really, not now.

I can be really good at hiding from the truth and despite learning that this is never possible (Freud had to be right about something) I still do it.  I have this deep inner self-doubt, this childish thing of running away when things get too emotionally intense and I panic.  A voice in my head tells me 'I can't do this, I don't love you enough for this' and then I spiral out of control as panic, fear and self-doubt vie for dominance.  Three snakes twinning themselves about my heart, my head and my confidence.

The moment that test turned positive I told myself I didn't want the baby.  I was going to be a terrible mother, I already had a bad relationship with my body and body image, I was going to suffer with postnatal depression, I wasn't going to cope, I wasn't going to bond with it, and it was going to drastically change mine and L's relationship.  Between that and getting a new job, in which I was going to have to tell my boss more or less as soon as the ink was dry on my contract, that I was pregnant, I felt some sense of relief when I lost it.  At least I thought I did.

I don't know where I am on the losing the baby-getting pregnant again thing.  I just know that I've become obsessed with buying pregnancy tests, checking when I might be fertile, putting our sex life under the microscope, checking if I were to fall now when my due date would be, buying new clothes and checking that I can get some maternity wear out of them, and feeling frustrated that I have an irregular cycle (suspected PCOS).  This is the point in which I would usually inject a bit of humour, like telling myself I need a hobby, to defuse the situation and take some of the intense emotions out of it.  But I'm coming empty.

Taking my unhinged hormones out of the equation I really don't know where I am on... all of this.  I just know that I need to keep putting one foot in front of the other and eventually, eventually, I will arrive at wherever I am meant to be.

Therapist

I'm a big fan of nature and exercise being a natural antidepressant.

This, this here is my therapist....

The road of 2017 has been tough so far, so very tough.  I've been on my knees sobbing more times than I can bear to think about.

I've had days when anger and frustration have taken over me, days when I'm consumed by grief and bitterness, days when I just don't want to 'people' and days when the voice in my head Just. Won't. Shut. Up.

It's a lot to carry even for my broad shoulders.

I do my best to be a functioning adult, but there are moments so dark I can feel myself sinking further, so I lock myself away with my therapist until I can face the world again.  Sometimes it's 20 minutes, sometimes it's an hour and other times I'm coming back day-after-day-after-day, muscles sore and cramping, knuckles and elbows skinned but I am there.  Each punch is an inarticulate emotion, a thought, a fear, a release.  Each kick is a wordless shout to be understood.

I will keep being there.

What If....

Just when I think I'm over losing our baby something comes along that is like being sucker punched in the stomach.
Whoosh that friend has the same due date as you.
I can't breathe.
I can't regain my balance.
I can't process all the emotions.

The strangest thing is I knew before the Drs confirmed it that I was losing baby.
On the fifth day of spotting I cried all day.
I made all kinds of promises to be the best, most loving mother ever, if only I didn't lose it.

The week I waited for another scan to confirm I'd had a missed miscarriage was torture in ways it's hard to talk about.
I didn't need a scan. I knew.
I felt such guilt at the thought it was probably for the best because I was about to start a new job and dreaded telling my boss, L and I rowed about things I can't even remember and Gramps had just been diagnosed with cancer.
I wondered if I had even wanted it in the first place.

Now L wants to try again and I don't know if I do.
What if I'm not mentally fit to be a mum?
What if can't love it?
What if I lose another?