Today marks 31 weeks of pregnancy. Tomorrow will bring the countdown to six remaining weeks till my scheduled c-section.
Last night was one of the worst I’ve had as far as restless legs are concerned. I laid down at about 9:30, read till around 10:15 and the last time I looked at the clock it was about 11:30. My legs were burning and aching and I did the only thing I know to do – move them to make them tired. I got up and stretched, paced around the living room (stumbled, actually, because the rest of me was so tired it was difficult to stay upright), laid back down and moved my legs till I fell asleep. Then, of course, I was up about every hour and a half to use the bathroom. And there were also consistent leg cramps that woke me up, but those I get while awake, as well. This morning getting out of bed took a lot of effort, and my legs were as sore as when I was training for races with my running group in Japan. I haven’t run in at least 7 months. Apparently, my legs are getting a workout whether I like it or not.
43 days to go.
I don’t remember pregnancy being this hard this early last time. I mean, sure, the nausea and heartburn plagued me from the start and continued until the day I delivered our Angel. But my belly already feels heavy, it’s hard to put on my own shoes, the insomnia gets me about half of each week (and the restless legs keep me from falling asleep the rest of the week), the leg cramps cause so much pain that sometimes I just sob while I try to will myself to relax and Jim rubs the muscles that won’t, my bladder is never empty but I’m always thirsty (despite drinking at least 96 oz of water every day, plus a cup of coffee, maybe a soda, and perhaps some iced tea), and my back pain is such that by 6pm it’s hard to sit up, let alone get comfortable. I just feel like I’ve been beaten up every day, and that’s not a happy feeling.
I know our little girl is completely worth every second of pain and struggle, and I hate to sound ungrateful, because I am SO VERY GRATEFUL that we are getting another opportunity to have a beautiful little girl in our lives. But wow, does pregnancy suck or what!? I know that these next 43 days will fly by in some sense. I know that when our sweet girl is in my arms I won’t care how much pain and struggling I went through to get her there. I know this, but I’m still ready for December 22 to get here so that I can have her instead of all of this.
The first time I was pregnant I swore I would never do it again. I hated being pregnant (I HATE being pregnant – present AND past tense)! But after we lost Angel the emotional pain and the devastation of losing her were much greater than the pain I went through while carrying her for 39 weeks. So we decided to try again. And we believe that it must have been our God’s plan because it wasn’t difficult to get pregnant again (2 weeks of trying the first time, 2 months of trying the second), and I’ve had another perfectly healthy pregnancy. But I’m ready to be done. I’m ready for our little girl to get here. I don’t want to be pregnant; I want to parent. I want my scars and my stretch marks and the exhaustion and the soreness and everything else to be turned into pure love and happiness for the little girl in the bassinet beside the bed (or the crib in the nursery, or the pack-n-play in the living room, or the car seat in the back of the car, or in my arms or in Jim’s arms) instead of having nothing to show for it besides a picture of the most beautiful baby girl in the world sitting behind an urn in the curio cabinet in our living room.
I’m ready. 43 days!