Exhausted

It's my 29th week.

I've been feeling really exhausted. This morning, although I've woken up, I still went back to bed to laze in it with my eyes closed, and hardly had the energy to search for the aircon remote control.

I suspect that it's depression. I've been feeling stressed up over work, William's debts, and how I'm going to cope with 2 children and the cleaning-up of the house. The baby is arriving in about 2 months' time and we've got nothing for the baby, or me for that matter. I'm worried. William is not going to have the money to buy them all in a bulk when he doesn't even have abit to spare to buy just 1 item now. I was asking a colleague who just came back from her maternity leave on how she copes with 2 young children and she mentioned about support from her husband. Isn't that true? The only way a working mother can cope with work and children is a supportive husband. But I know mine isn't. And he's not capable of being supportive.

Whenever I worry about all these, the word 'adoption' comes to mind. The thought of having two children freaks me out. I never wanted to have another child for as long as I'm married to William because I know he won't help me out. I'm afraid that I'll go crazy. Of course, seeking solace from another man is an option, but the other man is not my legal husband and he can't help me out at home. I was hoping that as my pregnancy progresses, William will start to grow up and learn to be a better husband and father, but it isn't the case. I feel bullied throughout the pregnancy. Because I'm quite immobile now, comparatively, the house is left in a dusty and dirty condition and he refuses to do something about it. He wipes the floor about once in one or two months. The window grills have this thick layer of dust which I'd told him about months ago and nothing's been done about it. He dumps all the dirty clothes into the washing machine - I'd told him to wash Coco's clothes separately so that our germs and bacteria don't mix with hers but he'd never listen. And he has to wait for me to scream and nag at him for weeks before he gets on with the laundry. And after washing the clothes, he doesn't put them into the dryer until I tell him many times that if the clothes are left in the washing machine for too many days, they will develop a smell and he would have to rewash them. Even after he dumps them all into the dryer, because he's unfamiliar with the dryer, the clothes are almost never completely dry and to the horror of horrors, he considers 'damp' as being 'dry'. It's just like how I don't know how to explain to my low-ability kids why addition sign is '+' and not 'x', or how to further simplify 'Don't use pencil', I don't know how to explain to him that 'damp' is not equivalent to 'dry'.

It's been frustrating living with him. My divorce plan has to be shelved because my elder sister doesn't allow Coco and me to move back with my parents - she owns the house and so she calls the shots.

The moment I think about the extra expenditure the baby is going to bring along with her, I would tell myself,"How about giving her up for adoption?"

I feel torn apart. Exhausted. Traumatised.