Ok - a little venting folks.
My husband, I love him...but as in all marriages, we have our struggles. I think a pregnancy has the potential to bring some the struggles to the forefront. At least that is how I feel today.
Our biggest hurdle over the almost 11 years of our marriage has been our basic lifestyle - he being gone for about half the month, every month. This lifestyle was at it's toughest when he was gone about three weeks in a row every month...this toughest part lasted for 4 years...and when I say "gone", I'm talking Europe, the Middle East and Hong Kong "gone". Things are better now - he is still gone roughly half the month (some months a little less), but the days are broken up into 3 or 4 day increments. It's manageable. I don't love it, obviously, but I've worked out how to live this way...perhaps a little too well.
As a result of this lifestyle, which has just magnified my preexisting stubborn and independent personality, I have learned to function best by myself. I'm use to running the house by myself, making decisions by myself, caring for myself. I've had to learn how to do this. And my dear husband is use to me doing all this as well. But sometimes, just sometimes, I want to be cared for and protected. I think I realized this when my parents and BF were such a great help when I was on bed rest...and I was open to their help (albeit a little "discussion"). When my dear husband and I get into this discussion (which, by the way, is the one we have been having over and over for the last 11 years without much progress...our broken record "discussion"), his response is always "but you are so strong, capable, and independent, I thought you would be insulted if I did so and so for you.". Sometimes I feel that I could tell him that I was going to South America on a safari through the Amazon right now, 9 weeks pregnant, and his response would be "have fun - I know you'll be safe and make good choices". Meant to be a compliment, I know, but then why does it invoke rage in me? I guess it is because it makes me feel even more alone than I already physically am a lot of the time. And now, with a bun in the oven, feeling alone is a scary emotion.
So what brought this need to vent on? Making my husband lunch yesterday after working in the garden, then we went out to dinner last night (my arrangements and suggestion), then I made breakfast for him this morning. Oh then, he makes lunch for himself today without asking me if he can get me anything. And finally, we were suppose to do something fun today - something where I could get out of the house a little after the days of bed rest. I backed off and gave him the reins to let him come up with something and make it happen. Nothing happened. This post is about the only thing that happened today.
Ok, enough. Damn hormones.
1 hour ago