I’ve reached the point in this pregnancy where nothing is new and everything is uncomfortable. She moves all the time, and it usually hurts. She is especially fond of crowding my stomach, lungs and ribs.
I’m revisiting my first trimester friends, nausea and exhaustion. My due date is close enough to start getting excited, but it’s still too far away to feel like it’s ever going to get here. No one understands how on earth I am still pregnant because it seems I’ve been pregnant forever. I have the exact same conversation with at least five different people everyday. “How are you feeling?” “When are you due?” “Oh my, still a little ways to go, but I bet you are ready!”
Basically, my life is on repeat. And I’m struck with the same scary thought everyday as I hoof it across the parking lot at work for the thousandth time in the Saharan heat: I’m going to be pregnant forever.
Ok, I realize that’s a little on the dramatic side, but it does seem that way. I’m tired of being pregnant. I’m tired of being tired and achy. I’m tired of not being able to breath and sweating my ass off while performing basic responsibilities at work. I’m pretty sure this is the “pre-baby blues” I’ve heard so much about. I’m just…lethargic. Yes, I am excited about my baby, and yes, I really want to meet my daughter. However, and I didn’t think this was possible, but the end of this pregnancy is going by even slower than the beginning.
I’m pretty sure September 28th is never going to get here and this whole thing will just be some cosmic joke.