My husband, the alien

I have to admit that right now I am praying the baby does not arrive tonight. My husband, after being super sweet all day, sending really thoughtful text messages and checking in with me all day, turned into Dr. Jekyl at 6pm. No sooner had we arrived home (after I had made sure he got his workout in so he wouldn't be cranky) that he started to get overwhelmed by the sheer volume of work that lay ahead of us this evening. Nothing out of the usual, but with dinner to prepare, lunches to pack, dishes to clean, swimsuits to hang, and a few cabinets to screw in (one of my nesting projects) he began to...well, panick. And with that panick comes tension, resentment, defensiveness and snide remarks all night long. All aimed at yours truly of course. So now, in the wake of another potential childbirthing night ahead of us, and a husband who I feel completely alienated from at the moment, nothing could be less appealing to me than going into labour. I mean, its his sperm that got me into this mess to begin with and now do I not only feel totally unsupported by my husband but anxious at the fact that if he can't handle our daily responsibilities, how will he possibly be able to deal with them when the new baby comes along? How can I feel at one with someone who makes me feel so alone sometimes? I find myself looking at him wondering if he ever has the same thoughts that I do, and thinking that if aliens were looking in on our lives from another planet, they must be wondering how we can manage to blunder our communication time and time again even though we are speaking the same language. Or are we? It occurs to me that I feel like we are speaking past each other, which in fact we are. In addition to speaking to me in one word sentences and walking into another room while I am in the middle of saying something, my husband communicates the fact that he blames me for all responsibilies that come with family life by constantly sighing really LOUD. He does this in order to send me not so subtle reminders that a) he is still busy working, b) that he does not appreciate how busy I keep him, and c) that he would rather be doing anything else but what he is doing at that very moment. These sighs have a way of digging away at any remaining confidence that I have left in the survivability our relationship and making me feel like Cruella de Vil. I know his entire view of his once lovely wife can now be boiled down into one word: Taskmaster. And why would this view that he holds make me feel loved and supported and secure in our relationship? The long and short answer is, it wouldn't.