Crazy Eights

We got the baby a bathtub this week.

photo 1

I mean, we might as well take the other one off the registry because we pretty much just plan on dipping Fish into the new backyard fish pond and calling it clean.

photo 3

Just add water.

And fish.

So, this week.

Honestly, the rest of this post might just contain a bunch of gibberish because I haven’t slept in, oh, about a month.

Seriously.

If there was one thing I was really good at, it was sleeping.

Every night was exactly the same.

Book.

books

Popcorn.

th

Fall into deep, deep sleep until 5:00AM.

th-2

Even if I woke up, I was right back to sleep in about .5 seconds.

Maybe this is my own fault.

I had been praying that I wouldn’t revisit the first trimester tiredness where I couldn’t even look at a pillow without losing consciousness.

So now I just toss and turn and throw pillows around until about 3:00am in which I fall into a semi-stupor for about 2 hours until I have to get up for work.

Somehow I manage to function during the day, but night time has become absolutely anxiety provoking knowing that I am going to sleep in fits for at least 5 hours.

I also have restless legs syndrome (RLS) which is apparently quite common in pregnancy.

I used to have restless legs in high school and college but I don’t remember it being painful. 

If you’re not familiar with restless legs, its when your legs go bat-shit crazy and you get uncontrollable urges to kick and flail them to relieve super intense hurt-y-ness.

There’s totally a medication for that but it’s not safe during pregnancy, of course.

My mid-wife suggested increasing potassium to combat RLS but holy shit, did you know bananas can cause heartburn and reflux so bad that you have to sleep vertically?

Oh wait, EVERYTHING causes heartburn and reflux so bad that food has become completely repulsive.

Oh sure, that strawberry smoothie sounds great until it tries to crawl back into your throat and kill you.

strawberry-mango-smoothie

Ditto for peanut butter.

And chocolate, which I am certain might cause death at this point.

What a cruel, cruel joke when they tell pregnant ladies to “eat healthy.”

Please, if I can eat anything that doesn’t repeat on me for two days, I consider it a wildly healthful accomplishment.

The good news this week is that we have started bi-monthly prenatal appointments.

Fish is swimming along at 150 beats per minute and kicking P-Daddy in the face when he lays on my stomach.

Today marks 32 weeks which is officially 8 months.

This feels monumental to me.

I am finally ready to take full advantage of pregnant lady status.

As in,

Could you please do all the dishes, laundry, cleaning, pet-care, car care, house maintenance, and anything that requires any type of movement because my abdominal muscles have separated and I can no longer get out of this chair.

Thanks. 

32 weeks! 

or

8 FREAKING MONTHS!

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