seriously slacking - 36 weeks

I'm 36 weeks pregnant today, which means 4 weeks left (if I'm lucky). I alternate between wanting to get it over with already and wanting to keep this kid in forever so nothing changes. I've become accustomed to not being able to bend over and breathe at the same time, to the unpredictable, sharp stabbing pains that occasionally shoot from my back to my hip down my leg, causing me to suddenly lurch forward like the Hunchback of Notre Dame. This random pain doesn't care if I'm at home, trying to carry a 25-pound toddler up the stairs, or merely strolling around at Target minding my own business.

What I'm no longer accustomed to is an hour of straight sleep being considered a luxury. All the various discomforts of recovering from a 40-week gestational process in which a human being ... you know, comes out of your body. The profuse sweating that ensues upon hearing a tiny little baby screaming and screaming for no reason. Thinking that your breast pump talks to you.

These days, I wake up around 3am with a strange desire to go downstairs and vacuum the kitchen floor. I often worry about how we're going to permanently ruin Olivia's life and how she's still just a baby and needs our attention.

But I'm sure that just like I did with Olivia, I'll muddle through somehow. I'll get used to not sleeping again, though hopefully it won't be a year-long stretch this time around. I'll wear the dark undereye circles as badges of honor. If nothing else, maybe people will take pity and come over bearing coffee.