i’m trying to think of ways to not make this post sound miserable and whiny. oh but fuck it, i am miserable and whiny.
the past 24 hours have brought a new hormonal shift. one where tears are constantly sitting on my eyes, and i swing moment to moment between feeling ridiculously needy and wanting to be left utterly alone. h asks if she can do anything, and she can’t do anything, and i feel frustrated at once again having to say no. she worries i am angry with her. and i am not angry with her; i am weary, period. sleep is increasingly uncomfortable. last night, i was awoken over and over to contractions burning in my back and left hip. contractions that go nowhere, of course. i’m not in labor. the braxton and the hicks are simply conspiring against my chances for a good night of sleep.
they say you know you are in transition when you feel like you can’t do it anymore, when you want to give up and escape. surely, i am in transition from not-in-labor to in-labor then, because i can’t take the mind fuck, let alone the aching heaviness of lugging this baby around, any longer. i am so weary of this.
…but i am trying to buck up for the possibility of another two weeks of this.
seriously, though, would it kill mother nature or the weather channel to give us something other than triple digits and extreme drought? every.fucking.day?
done ranting. really. and i’m sure my hormones will shift again, and i’ll be back in my mother teresa, zenlike place of tranquil readiness for whatever comes.
pee ess thanks for the colostrum-saving recommendations. i would save it, if there were enough to save. right now, it’s just sticky drops that mostly end up hanging out around the rim of the pump horn. if i produce something more salvageable, i’ll freeze it fo sho.