Getting emotional

I have heard many stories about the emotional rollercoaster of pregnancy but haven't really experienced it myself so far.  Mostly I have the numb self-preservation thing going on.  But that all changed last night.

I was changing into my PJs and Dh commented on how red my breasts and upper belly are.  And they are.  Under my breasts is really uncomfortable and kind of rashy from my bra (any bra).  As I mentioned before, my breasts are large and very heavy so supporting them is tough work for my bras and for me. 

Dh then proceeded to interrogate me on whether or not I had done research to figure out adequate support, almost accusing me of malpractice when he asked if I went to a maternity store to get my new bra and I replied that I had gone to a bra specialty store (that had a gazillion maternity bras, so I think it was the appropriate place to go).

The point of all of this build-up is that somehow this serious conversation lead to Dh saying that he had known that my belly would get bigger but he was truly frightened by what was going on with my breasts.

Think back to this post in which I admitted my breast self-consciousness.

Honestly, I don't care what I look like.  I would have loved to be one of those thin women who get the pretty round belly and stay thin everywhere else.  But what I really, really want is a child.  A cute pregnancy would have just been a perk.  And given that each of my breasts is now about the same size as my belly, I have the Venus of Willendorf thing going on in the front instead of "cute."  But honestly, it doesn't matter.  This is what my body does and as long as it takes good care of my baby and brings her into the world safely it can do whatever the hell it wants.

I was kind of appreciating the fertility goddess look and was assuming that maybe Dh was too, although he had made comments about how it is ok since I am pregnant and he'll be my personal trainer once the baby gets here.

When I woke up at 3am and couldn't go back to sleep I started to get a little upset.  I went to the living room and googled more about bras for pregnant 32G women.

Dh woke up and came in to talk, and of course talking about it all just made me cry like a leaky faucet.  I hadn't realized how upset I was. I really don't care what I look like but I do care that my husband may be permanently scarred by seeing my body do all of these weird things.  He doesn't seem to understand exactly what I'm upset about.  He kept saying that all pregnant women get insecure about what their bodies look like, but that isn't what this is about at all.  

I'm not really even all that upset about his comments, but I couldn't stop the tears from flowing from my eyes.  I tried to tell him that he wasn't hearing what I was saying, that I really love being pregnant and don't care about what I look like.  But the words just made me cry more so it was really hard.  And then he said that he was really happy to hear that I love being pregnant as I hadn't said that before.  And that made me even more sad, and I'm crying as I type this just thinking about it all.

I think it comes down to this.  I am afraid to say how much I love it and how happy I am, and I'm afraid to wear clothes that make me look pregnant instead of just large because then people will know.  If I end up without a baby at the end of this everyone will know.  I won't be able to fake not caring about having a baby; I won't be able to pretend that I never wanted one. 

Anyway, that was my incoherent emotional bout that isn't quite over.  It started with a royally bad mood when I woke up yesterday and ends with a very teary InBetween who is having a hard time keep it together today, although I honestly have no idea why.