Tired (22w4d)

As I was arranging pillows last night, it occurred to me how nice it is to be able to fall asleep and stay asleep (we're not counting the bathroom trips, okay?), as opposed to the insomnia of January and the Ambien-induced half-sleep of February and the hcg-inspired restlessness of March.

My life is nothing if not ironic.  I'd been asleep for maybe an hour when a crack of lightning that felt like it hit our house woke me.  And then LG, who asked if she could come into my bed.  Yes, I said, if you actually sleep (generally LG just comes in my bed and rolls around and keeps us both awake).  She slept.  I didn't.  I listened to her breathing--which actually sounds somewhat funky and erratic, and which I should probably report to her pediatrician--and rolled from side to side in the limited space I had left, with the Boy smacking the sides of my uterus with his feet (or hands, or head, or whatever).  My back ached.  I started thinking about everything under the sun:  phone calls I need to make, conversations with Dr. Gorgeous from two years ago, the tenure situation, what I was going to do with my class today, etc, etc etc.  I think maybe I slept four hours total.

Then this afternoon I made my weekly stop in the department to photocopy things and ran into my chair, who said, you look tired.  I shrugged, it's hot.  Not:  it's hot, and I'm 5 months pregnant, and my 7 year old and my wiggling fetus kept me up for half the night, and I just walked across campus lugging an extra 18 pounds and my backpack.  But it did strike me as interesting that he never said I looked tired during all those months I really wasn't sleeping and was completely overwhelmed with IVF and sorrow and work and being starved by my acupuncturist.  All in all, one night of bad sleep is nothing compared to what my life was a few short months ago.  But since I'm visibly pregnant, I guess it's okay for him to say things like that?  I'm not sure how I feel about that, though I know he was being sincerely nice.

But truth be told, I am exhausted.  And the minute LG falls asleep in her own bed, I'll be crashing in mine.  The dirty dishes can wait until tomorrow.  Along with everything else.