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Christening my new office and throwing away my socks

   If I knew that having a baby would be like this, I just might not have done it. If I knew that I would be void of every shred of energy molecule, I would have asked white boy if we could find an alternate route. If I knew that I would function at the basest of levels, such like a paramecium, I would have said this is not for me.
  Now, I say these things having had a wonderfully easy pregnancy with my son. It was a breeze. I had no issues. Had it not been for the fact that I felt the hiccups and the occasional gymnastics routine while my stomach protruded outward, I wouldn't have known I was pregnant. All that to say...I was expecting another easy peasy pregnancy. Ha! I'm a flipping idiot. 
  I don't complain to throw in the face of all those who can't get pregnant. Or, even complain about what some would consider miniscule in comparison to what others have gone through. I do it because it is happening to me and I can't fix it. I complain because damnit...it sucks!
  I have a little over 6 weeks to go before we meet our little Claire. Although, according to my doctor's appointment on Friday, she isn't so little. In fact, national average at this stage is 3.75lbs. She is currently weighing in at 5.3. Yeesh! But, thank God as I rest assured she will be about the same size as her brother when he was born. Speaking of the little tyke. He weighs in at a whopping 29lbs and stands 34.5 inches. He is taller than 98% and heavier than 93%. I have big kids. 
  But, this isn't about Owen. This is about me. This is about the fact that never in my life have I been as miserable as I am. I have been more mentally stable (with the help of Zoloft) and yet mentally confused in the last few months than I have ever been. I forget too easily; I remember too late; and I have nothing left to give.
  My first pregnancy I was able to lounge around. I could sleep when I wanted...I could leave the house when I wanted...I could do anything my heart desired to take care of me. Not so the case any longer. I, by choice, have taken a backseat to my family. I would have it no other way...but it does make things much harder.
  I don't see how people do this with more than 1 kid. I don't see how people do this over and over and over. I admire them. I do...I am grateful for my situation, but damn! This shit is hard! I have been borderline pre-eclamptic and border on gestational diabetes. I throw up almost every day. *Thought that was supposed to end in first trimester* I have the hardest time remembering mundane things...or if I do remember it is always at the most inconvenient of times.
  For example: One of my closest gfs and I went out to dinner about a month ago where she told me she was applying/interviewing for a new job. I was massively ecstatic for her. A week goes by and I remembered while in the shower to call/text her how it went...I forgot. She texted me and told me that she had her interview and I was able to text her back/call her to find out a bit more. She told me she had another interview. Another week goes by and I remembered to text her (while I was at my anniversary dinner...at least I remembered) :) and ask how it went. She got back with me...quickly. I read it. I forgot to respond when I got a moment. A week and a half goes by. 430AM I remember to text her. Since I am so good at forgetting...I texted her and woke her up. Oops. But was able to finally talk to her a moment.
  This is not an isolated case. Just ask some other friends. Also, I ask and do the most random things. I threw my socks away the other day when I got home. No reason. I asked white boy to put the laundry in the microwave for me. No reason. I called my husband James. No reason. I put the empty milk jug in the fridge. No reason.  
  And the vomit. Oh...my god...the vomit. It perhaps wouldn't be so bad if I were nauseated. Which I am not. It wouldn't be so bad if I knew it was coming. Which I don't. The last 3 places I have graced my vomit: Charlestons restaurant (while still sitting in the booth), My car (made it on my shirt and into my son's sippy cup {thank god for Take 'n' Toss}), and my new office (all over the floor and my bagless trashcan...so glad I could christen it as such.)
  I realize people have it harder. I do. But, for me...this is hard. I keep trying to remember that "this too shall end." Not sure how much longer I can do it, but I will...and I can. The energy will return. The memory with return. The motivation to live grander than a paramecium will return. One day. Cest la vie...
  Over and out...Complaints done... 
  
  
  
  

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