Friday, June 28, 2013

Like a Penny in Your Pocket


Several summers ago, I got to go to Hawaii.  It's not the kind of thing I would be able to pull off myself, but my friend Derek's parents were taking him and were allowing him to take a friend.  He was single.  I was single.  We were great friends.  His parents were incredibly nice.  Hawaii sounded awesome.

Derek's sister Becky, also a friend, was pregnant with her second child and did not go on the trip.  She had to look on at our daily Hawaii updates on Facebook and endure Derek's endless dishonest text messages about how we met Tom Selleck.  I don't exactly remember how far along she was, but for some reason ten weeks is my guess.  One day she commented on Facebook on how tired this baby was making her.  I wasn't sure exactly how big a ten-weeks-gestation baby was, but I was confident it wasn't large.  

So I decided to be funny, and I responded with "I bet it's exhausting.  Like carrying a penny in your pocket."  

She did not think it was funny.  She responded with a copied-and-pasted list of all of the things her pregnant body was doing.  And I learned.  You don't joke with a pregnant woman about being tired.  

Fast forward almost four years.  And here I am.  Fourteen weeks pregnant, and I am tired.  And though it has gotten better, the tiredness I have lived through is nothing like I have ever known.  I am usually tough.  I can push through lack of sleep, sickness, sadness.  I keep going.  I just do what needs to be done.  But this... this is like nothing I have ever experienced.  This tiredness is debilitating.  It begs for full night's of sleep, which I get, thanks to half a Unisom every night.  Even so, it requires naps.  Long naps.  And thankfully, since school is out for the summer, I get long naps.

I hear stories about how the first trimester is hard.  The second is easier.  The third goes back to hard.  So far, I am mostly only versed in the first trimester, and I can tell you, it's the worst I have ever felt physically.  I need a nap before lunch.  I start to breathe like an asthmatic while walking from my car into my house or walking up half a flight of stairs.  I get worn out while painting my toenails.  And through these days, as I walk through rooms of still-unpacked boxes, I am reminded of the sarcastic words I so carelessly typed onto Becky's Facebook wall long ago.  So I should probably say that I am sorry, Becky.  I get it. And should you ever decide to have another child, I promise to be the most sympathetic, understanding friend you've got.

With all of this typing, I need a nap.  

4 comments:

  1. I had a feeling one day you would eat your words...if you had any energy for eating.

    This is funny. I don't really remember being legitimately mad about this, but I do know that it is a frustration that can only be understood by a pergnant woman. Welcome to the club, my friend. :)

    xo,
    The Now-Famous Becky

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    Replies
    1. I don't really know if you were legitimately mad either, but if you weren't, you should have been. :) And yeah, eating is a whole other thing. I usually have the energy but nothing sounds good... except Taco Bell bean burritos. Yikes.

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  2. Only the beginning, my friend. I have an 11 year old, an 8 year old, a 6 year old, a 2 1/2 year old and an (almost) 2 month old baby that eats 2 or three times during the night. The only way I don't lose my ever-lovin' mind (more than I already have) is to take a nap EVERY day. Seriously. Every day. Sure, this leaves the 11 year old "in charge" sometimes, and there are certainly consequences to that, but they are not as bad as what would happen if I didn't get to nap.

    Tired doesn't even come close as a descriptor. I think I actually dream about taking naps. ;)

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    Replies
    1. I am encouraged to know that you are that determined to fit in a nap. I feel like that will be me. And I will just be starting with one... and he will sleep a lot at the beginning. I hope.

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