It's 3:09am. I got home later last night from two days of sales meetings, which apart from being fun and worthwhile, make this chubby-mummy a little tired... more so when you're pregnant of course because having to turn your brain on max capacity for two days straight is like trying to pull my pre-pregnancy skinny jeans up over my hips at this point... impossible and complete with post-marathon-esque exhaustion. Throw some air travel in there and BAM, recipe for potential disaster. Which currently describes the status of my face... itchy, flaky, red spots have taken over to the point that when I itched my right eyebrow for the last two days it appeared to be snowing in the conference room when in fact it was just my rejected skin falling off my face in public... you know, the pregnancy glow! I also managed to pick up two friends for Cindy Crawford (my faithful sidekick of a pimple that's been with us since January) which is delightful as it's likely I've picked up three new scars for the Dermatologist I will never see (due to shortages) to laser off.
So, here I am. 3:17am now. Been awake since before 2am but attempted flipping from side to side like a beached whale for an hour before huffing and puffing downstairs to get some work done that will, maybe, give me time to catch up on said lost sleep before I pick Jane up from daycare today. Unlikely. Why is it that when we have time to take a nap, we never feel like taking a nap?
If I remember correctly, which at this point has no merit whatsoever, I believe pregnancy insomnia was one of my only unpleasant symptoms with Jane. I cannot, however, remember it starting this early and Dear Lord help me if I have another 12 weeks of this. There's pretty much nothing worse you can do to me except take away my sleep. You know how sometimes your toddler is acting like the devil incarnate and it takes you a hour to remember he/she had the worst sleep ever and that explains the fact that they are currently on the floor screeching like you never imagined hearing from another human being because you can't get the My Little Pony videos to work? Yeah. That's pretty much what happens to me when I'm tired... minus the floor and the pony. Of course, during pregnancy numero uno, no biggie. I didn't have to worry about being nice to anyone, because the only one around was Dan and because, only during the bad symptoms of pregnancy, do I give him any credit for having any part in the creation of said child, he deserved to be punished. :p
I can't be grumpy, lazy, droopy, pregnancy woman this time... I have to be chipper, happy, energetic, best-mom-in-the-world Jen. Sometimes. Its. Hard. Of course, then in typical mommy fashion, I put more pressure on myself in the form of GUILT - sometimes a mom's worst enemy, sometimes her biggest motivator. This is the hardest battle of pregnancy number two.
Remember your first pregnancy? Remember Saturdays? I remember lying around on the couch with Dan, watching tennis or golf on tv, because we knew it would be good background noise for us to have nap. And we could nap all day if we wanted. The only thing that was necessary to take care of on the weekends was finding a source of food. That was our ONLY obligation... eat and sleep.
Do I wish for these days back? Of course not. One of the annoyingly generic quotes of becoming a parent is that "you don't remember what life was like before". Well, that's partially a lie, because obviously I remember sleeping the day away without a care. But, can I imagine doing that now? No. I don't think I'd be able to. Here's your pregnancy insomnia induced deep quote of the day: Life has purpose when you have children. You have a spectacular, fantastic, amazing reason to wake up and be happy everyday... most days. :p Nobody's perfect after all.
Here's the good news. If I suffer with pregnancy insomnia for the next 12 weeks, then it's likely I only have to pretend not to be a grouchy bitch for the next 15-18 months! WOOT WOOT!
Here's the bad news. One of my learnings from my two days on max capacity is that the average lifespan of a woman (in Canada) is 83 yrs old. Which means we spend 1/3 of our lives in pre or post-menopause (which if you know nothing about is probably better as you'd probably contemplate the benefits of undergoing a sex change). One of the most common symptoms of menopause = insomnia. HA! Which means I have plenty of time to be a grouchy bitch in the last third of my life. YIPEE!