At the 20 week mark for parenthood and living, the former for me, the latter for Matilda, I have hit the sleep deprivation wall. Full force like a crash test dummy in a minivan. I am TIYARD. I am no longer funny. I no longer finds things funny. MAMA NEEDS TO SLEEP. Starting tomorrow, Niclas will be getting up with Matilda at 7 and I will be remaining in bed. TILL I DAMN WELL FEEL LIKE GETTING OUT OF IT. Or until Matilda needs breakfast, whichever comes first.
I know I was tired the first trimester. I remember trying to stand long enough to get on the commuter rail at the end of the day. I remember falling asleep sitting upright at my desk. I remember wanting to DIE I was so tired. I'm sort of feeling like I'd like to die all over again.
I also sort of remember being really hungry the first trimester (and the second and third) but I DIDN'T KNOW FROM HUNGER. On top of being so tired I want to kill Niclas with my bare hands just because he's not tired, I am hungry every second of every day. It is nearly impossible to eat enough to stave off the hunger for an hour. Fact: It is 10:30am. I have eaten three times today already. Fact: I still have in the neighborhood of five pounds to lose from the pregnancy. Fact: I have become a gym rat in an effort to lose said five-ish pounds. FACT: THE FIVE POUNDS AIN'T GOING NOWHERE. And I'm hungry. I'm jittery all the time with the FEED ME. Hollow and hungry and tired.
Knock knock.
Who's there?
Tired. And Hungry. AND NOT FUNNY.
