Twenty weeks. Twenty weeks, people. Halfway there. Only two more days (two! more! days!!!!) until I find out if this kiddo is a boy or a girl. But I’m so tired, I almost can’t even get excited. (Ok, that’s a lie. But I am. SO. tired.)
And I’m only halfway there! How am I gonna make it through the rest of this pregnancy? I got very little rest on vacation, thanks to the kids sleeping in the same room with us (Sophie at 3 a.m.: “What? Mommy, Daddy, and Joshua are ALL HERE? Let’s PARTY! Let’s jump on some air mattresses or poop our pants or something!) and a schedule of family fun. And now I seriously feel like I got hit by a TRUCK. Tonight a friend of mine stopped by about 8:15 and said, “Wow, you look like you are feeling really bad.”
I had a look in the mirror. I couldn’t argue.
All you lovely ladies who just loooove being pregnant, who feel so GREAT during the 2nd trimester, I don’t get you. Oh how I wish I did.
Twenty more weeks. Crossing my fingers for nineteen. And maybe a little rest between now and then.
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