At a Turtle's Pace

 

Most days I wake up, even after not sleeping very well, feeling like my normal self, just with a big belly.  I have great energy for the first few hours.  I have breakfast, straighten the house a little, start work.  The first few tasks are done with ease, maybe an errand or two during my lunch break. 

After lunch, the belly feels like it weighs about 20 pounds, I'm a little achey, and I start to walk just a little bit more slowly while I work and do more things around the house.

By 5 or 6pm, the belly now feels like a 35 pound belt.  I stare longingly down at the 100th thing I've dropped on the floor that day and just the thought of bending down to pick it up and then lift myself back up again makes me exhausted so I decide it can wait until John gets home.

By 8 or 9pm, the belly, now a 50 pound bubble strapped to my middle, causes each bone in my body to ache and I move at a turtle's pace, one swollen foot in front of the other, to the bed where it takes me a good five minutes to situate my body into a somewhat comfortable position only to find that I have to visit the restroom for the first of 6 or 7 times that night.  Once back in the bed and, again somewhat comfortable, I fall asleep before my head settles on the pillow and begin to saw logs immediately at which time my poor husband retires to the nursery to sleep.

I feel like this is the day of a 9 month pregnant woman, not a 7 monther, but I started showing early and got big early, so it's only natural to get tired a little earlier as well.  I also think the heat is playing a huge part in it all.

Even with all this (and it's really not too bad), I still LOVE being pregnant and am not ready for it to be over like I know I will be before too long.  I am still relishing every minute and am so thankful that I am now in the place where, a year ago, I was afraid I might never be.