Something changed over the past few weeks. Ever since we got pregnant after our first IVF, I've been on a chronic high. Life suddenly seemed GOOD. The other stuff faded into insignificance. Career not going great - eh, who cared? I'd be a mother soon! Husband didn't take out garbage - well, it could wait until next week. After years of struggling with IF, I was giddy with happiness and gratitude that we might have our own baby after all!
Well, last night, as I was putting tabasco sauce on my burrito, the husband quips: "baby doesn't like tabasco". And how do you know, I asked. Since he refuses to read up about pregnancy, he has no idea that eating spicy food is fine during pregnancy.
Then later, when driving home, he insisted on blaring classical music really loud so that "the baby can hear and it's good for the baby". Never mind that the music was splitting my ear drums or that I was getting absolutely sick of listening to nothing but classical for several days in a row and he hadn't given me any solid evidence that it was in fact making any difference to the baby.
He's been leaving heaps of clothes around the house, stuff lying hither thither. I asked him to devote 30min today to putting his clothes away. He spent 5min hiding some of them behind doors and in closets and claimed he had done what I asked him to. I shouldn't mind this small stuff, but it is bugging the hell out of me. The euphoria is gone, it's back to arguing and fighting now.
The Consequence of Intimacy
22 hours ago