Tired.

I am really tired. I am tired because I don’t sleep much. I wake up about 6 times a night. I am sure that is great training for me, but man, it’s hard. I am tired of worrying about what I can or cannot eat and if it will make me feel awful. I used to be able to eat whatever I wanted to, whenever I wanted to, but now if I even think about spicy food, I feel terrible. For hours. And I can’t sleep because my stomach hurts. I am tired of getting dressed. Nothing fits right. Nothing looks cute. And everything is too short. The bigger my belly gets, the sluttier my dresses get. It’s attractive. I am tired of people saying awkward things to me. I am tired of people telling me I am huge. Or that I finally look pregnant. Or asking how far along I am and then telling me how much longer I have to go. Or reminding me that summer is hot and I will be miserable. Ok, thanks. I hadn’t figured that out yet from the swamp ass I currently have 24/7.

I am tired of being pregnant. I know, it’s only June. But it’s hot, and I am huge and I am just over it. I have roughly 77 days to my due date and I am just about ready for her arrival. Other than at work. At work, I have so much to do. But at home, the nursery is done, the baby clothes are washed and everything is ready. I have a couple of showers coming up and then she can make her appearance.

I made it to the third trimester, so that is exciting. Finally past the worry phase now that this little lady is kicking me all over the damn place. It’s a little easier to feel like she is doing okay when she is actively punching me in the bladder. It’s crazy to think I only have about 2.5 months to go, but that’s about where I am. Getting really excited to meet her. If only we could decide on a name.

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