Today I am tired.
So very, very tired.
I fell asleep putting Judah to bed last night, only to wake up at 1, in my jeans and sweater, wide awake.
After a few hours of tossing and turning - more like slow, nerve pinching, whale-like rolls - I fell back asleep. And then Judah woke us up. Before 7. In the pitch dark. On my one day to sleep in.
Compounding my tiredness is the fact that baby has retaken her former residence under my rib cage.
This week had been a pretty decent one for breathing, however, just to assure me that I am not in control of this relationship, she has taken back the lungs today. I'm quite sure she is squeezing them under her arm like a bagpipe. Hence the high pitch wheezing that is emitting from my mouth when I speak.
Added to the charm of this wheezing, is the entertaining show I put on when donning pants, socks or shoes; wherein, I need to sit on the floor to reach my feet... and then I need to grope away at nearby furniture, doorknobs or cats to get back up. The cat makes for a terrible support to my crushing weight.
And we are only 30 weeks along! That means 10 more weeks. Or, if this pregnancy is like Judah's, 12. 12 weeks! 84 days!! 2016 hours!!! 120,960 minutes!!!! Just the thought of it is compelling me to have a nap.
Wake me up in January please.