The return of my mind would be good. And my body, too. And oh yeah - a good night sleep would be WONDERFUL.
I don't know how much longer I'll be able to do this blog (it took me 5 times just to type "i'll"). I can't sit in front of this thing for long these days. I'm (nearly) constantly tired. Heartburn occurs regardless of whether I am sitting, standing or lying down. Walking normally left me 3 weeks ago. And we still have things to take care of before this little angel of ours makes her appearance. Of course none of it (with the exception of getting diapers which good lord did any of you know cloth diapers has turned into a science??) matters to her - just her mama and daddy.
Once she arrives, I will be in mama and rest mode 24/7 for some time. Even today, when Mr. N wants to tell me about the latest world happenings, I just kinda space it out, wave my hand and go "uh huh". Not like I don't care. Just cannot process.
Want to hear my latest pregnancy brain fart snafu? I backed the car into our carport post. I haven't hit anything with my car, well, with this particular car, EVER. And I have had it for 20 years, too. But here I was, driving half awake, having come from taking a snooze at the park, attempting to back up the car into our driveway (a definite no-no for me these days as the baby/my belly won't allow me to turn much) - something I've done regularly for years. And yet this time, for some reason, someone moved that damn post without telling me and it had a meeting of the minds with my bumper. Who won? Judging from the bumper and the post, I'd say it was a draw.
Well, Mr. N was so pleased with this. Even my tears didn't persuade him from showing me sympathy (well, for a little while that is). Instead he said that was it. My driving days were over until I give birth.
Yes, that is a thought that pisses me off. Royally. And while he doesn't control what I do - E V E R - he's right. Unless I am driving forward, I shouldn't be behind the wheel of our car. And being I am so tired so much of the time, that only adds to my inability to fully operate anything of the mechanical or moving nature responsibly and safely.
Damn, what did this post start off being? Oh well, who knows! We're at 36 weeks and counting. No signs yet. She could come next week or anytime after that through the middle to end of May. While the idea of birth (ok, pain) kinda freaks me out now and then, an even stronger emotion is the desire to birth her out of my body so I can not only experience being her mama, but so I can GET MY BODY BACK. Sleep on my back. On my belly. Eat a meal or drink a glass of water without experiencing acid reflux. Be able to carry around a little bit of gas without feeling like I want to explode inside. Jump off a park bench. Ride my bike. Drive. Get up without grunting. Walk normally with my hands by my side instead of one instinctively placed on the small of my back. And run. Oh god yes - me the non-runner suddenly wants to RUN. Everywhere. With my arms spread out wide by my sides. Giggling like a school girl while the warrior woman within says "YES. FREEDOM."
Screw all of the other freedoms at the moment. This girl wants to R U N. THAT, to me, as of today, is freedom.