Tuesday, March 24, 2015

Yesterday.

Ugh, it's morning. Oh, I'm still pregnant. I need to get up and pee. And drink a river. But it's so warm here. Maybe if I stare at my husband he will get me a drink of water. No, he thinks I want to snuggle...abort, abort!

the view from my bed
Have sad thoughts about lack of snuggling and lack of my body's ability to handle physical touch from another person at 7am in the morning. It's hard enough to move at 7am in the morning: all my effort goes towards singing some sort of motivational internal rant to my sore, bloated pregnant body in an attempt to beef myself up emotionally for that thing called "removing myself from the bed".

I used to be a morning person. I clearly remember a time when it wasn't like this. Will that time ever be here again? Briefly fantasize about springing unencumbered out of bed with the energy of a morning lark.

Get out of breath in my attempt to roll over. Hmm, this is new. Usually it's just annoying and worm-like when I try to host my enlarged torso into a west-facing position. Now I apparently can't breathe when it it happens. Gee, this is fun.

Great. Now my husband is in the shower and I'm finally in a mood for some snuggling. Guess I'll get a drink of water and empty my bladder instead of a warm hug.

My husband wakes me up (again) to kiss me goodbye. I suppose I fell back asleep. Swat at cute, professionally dressed husband and mumble something about how I hope he has a good day. Get kissed again, patted on the head, and mutely register the door closing and the car exiting from the driveway.

Pee again.

Stare at my iPhone. At least something loves me. 

Realize it is almost 8:30. Get thyself to the gym!

Usually walking at the YMCA helps me convince my body that it still knows how to function as a individual even if it is currently multiplying itself. Sometimes it just convinces me that I clearly have been blessed with too many muscles and joints. And they all hurt at once.

Return home. Eat all the things, because I'm so hungry I must be growing twins, or a third arm or... wait, I'm just growing boobs. This realization is reinforced by the fact that my bra is currently cutting off my circulation. Glad I don't need to go anywhere today.

Shower. Warm water. Feels so good. On my back.

Find clothes that fit.

Do whatever I have to do for the rest of the day while a baby kicks my spleen and who knows what else down there.

Realize I forgot to lather coconut oil on my growing parts. Oil self, and then attempt to pick up my computer. Drop my computer. @#%^. Note: do not apply lotion around electronics when afflicted with pregnancy brain. I mean impatience. But I'll blame my condition. 

My husband arrives home. Is it six o'clock already? I haven't even brushed my teeth yet...He says hi, and then proceeds to talk to my belly. Try not to feel weird and concerned for my husband's sanity. Have brief daydream where my uterus grows a mouth and actually talks back.

Can't explain to husband why I am laughing so hard.

Feel excited about meeting my baby...in four months. Four more months.

I'm not going to get any bigger, am I?

Repeat tomorrow. Except with more food, please.

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