Whining

Up until last week I was feeling pretty OK. Pregnant, tired, huge, and all that comes with it. But OK anyway.

I think that was mostly because at night I was sleeping. I'd wake up in the middle of the night, but I'd also go back to sleep. I'd wake up in the morning feeling refreshed and recharged and the first few hours of the day were always wildly productive.

But something happened this week. I'm not sure what it was, but suddenly I am drained.

I wake up feeling every bit as exhausted and achy as I felt when I went to sleep.

I was whining to Josh about not feeling good. And hurting. And being tired. And feeling the skin on my feet stretch. And being generally uncomfortable.

"Plus I keep getting these random cramps. I thought pregnancy made you immune from PMS." I told him.

I happened to be walking from the couch to the kitchen at the time and a random cramp hit forcing me to double over leaning against the chair crying until the puking kicked in.

"Um...I think that when you're pregnant cramps are actually called contractions....." he said in his least confident and most mousey voice. "That never happened with Thomas, did it?"

No. No it didn't. In fact, I might even say that I never felt bad contractions through his whole birth. Even when the epidural didn't work on one side and I could feel the contractions they weren't that bad.

Tomorrow Dr. Man and I will have a nice long chat about just how strongly you can be medicated while you're pregnant. Between the heartburn medication and the anti-nausea medication and some kind of pain medication that I hope he'll give me I have a feeling we'll be approaching that limit.

Suddenly this pregnancy is really hard.
I can't sit or stand comfortably.
I'm tired. Always.
I'm swollen all over and my nose is at least 3 times the size it was.
I haven't done my hair since the time before we last went camping.
I want to nap. Always.
The love sac sucks me in and while I can usually get comfortable there, getting out is quite the spectacle.
I don't sleep at night because I toss and turn and roll and push Josh around and try to stand up and lean over the garbage can and pee and take the covers off and put the covers on and shake the sleep out of my arms and......and......and.....
I can't bend over and lift things, which sucks because I have a two-year-old who is significantly shorter than I am.
Plus when Tommy uses my belly as a step stool to reach the top of my head, my eyes water.

Really it has been a good pregnancy, and really it will continue to be. I'm not hospitalized or on bed rest. I'm not paralyzed or unable to function (depending on your definition of functioning). The baby is fine and I'm fine and I'm happy to be pregnant and I have exactly zero room to complain.

But somehow I think I'll keep complaining anyway.