This last little bit is taking it out of me entirely and I haven’t a day in a long while where I didn’t wake up incredibly bitchy and then spent the whole day in that state. It’s been so rough around here that I’m not even sure how to write about most of it…
First and foremost, about two weeks ago, The Boyfriend came inside from shoveling in pain. He rarely ever is “in pain“, so when he is, not only is it very obvious but it definitely signals that something is wrong – because he rarely ever experiences pain. He thought he had pulled a muscle and for the next week, things got progressively worse. He comes home from work one night, red-faced and gripping his chest, in the most pain I’ve ever seen him in. We rush up to the hospital.
After being seen by triage nurses, we were pretty quickly sent to the back for him to get an ECG and then we were pretty quickly rushed even further back where he was given some Tylenol and an NSAID. We were both convinced he must be having a heart attack, as his heart rate just kept going up and we could overhear the nurses saying he was tachycardic. They send him down for a chest x-ray, they do some blood work and after about 4 hours (which is pretty incredible being that the wait times were upwards of 3 hours), they tell us he’s got pneumonia.
So, he has been exceptionally sick. Sick, in pain, on medication, and just all around not feeling well.
And I’m trying so hard to be the girlfriend that takes care of him. I’m trying so hard not to resent him for getting to be so well taken care of. I’m trying so hard to just not be angry all the time and it is not working. I wake up everyday and he’s stiff and I immediately hate him and want him to stay out of my face.
I don’t like being the rock. He’s supposed to be the rock. And I’m well aware of the fact that sometimes I have to be the rock. However this particular time is just not being easy. I’m not ready to be the rock and I don’t have the energy to be the rock and I’m just so sick of taking care of everybody.
It doesn’t help that I have about a million other stressors happening right now and he can’t even be there to offer me a hug because he is so sick. So I feel like I’m out here, sailing on choppy waters all by myself in a boat that isn’t even water-worthy, and it’s scary and it’s daunting and it’s overwhelming and it makes me want to cry constantly. But rocks don’t cry… However, my pregnant ass totally fucking doesn’t care!!!
And that’s another part of the whole thing that just really has been eating at me. He comes home from work that night, in pain, and I immediately jump into Mom mode. Because we at first think it’s just a muscle cramp, I suggest a hot shower. I undress him and hold him up, I turn on the water and make sure it’s the right temperature before he gets in there. I help him in and sit right next to the tub while he’s in there. I help him out and get him dried off and re-dressed. I support him on my damn shoulder, even though he’s way heavier than I am and I am a totally weakling. And not once during all my pain, during all my pregnancies, not even during labor, has he ever done this shit for me.
I have to struggle my own fat ass out of the bathtub when it’s three in the morning and my hip is causing me so much pain that I can’t feel my legs. I have to hold the cold cloth to my head as I’m pushing his baby out. I have to pull on my own damn pants on even when I can’t lift my foot of the ground. And I just can’t seem to get over that…
I’m sick of taking care of everyone and no one taking care of me.
And of course, his version of taking care of me is different than that. He looks at how hard he works outside of the house as taking care of us. He looks at the fact that he’s the only real income earner as taking care of us. And while he’s entirely right, it doesn’t make me feel any better. It just makes me resent him more. It makes me feel like I shouldn’t complain and frankly, that’s all I feel like doing lately. Complaining and bitching… And unfortunately, I don’t see that ending anytime soon for some reason!