Exhaustion, Frustration and the World’s Best Husband

I am so tired, I can hardly believe it. You would think that living with chronic insomnia for over half my life would have prepared me for this. You would be wrong. This is a type of sleeplessness and frustration that I can do almost nothing about, and it’s why I’ve been such an absentee blogger. I’ve sat up at night thinking of things that I could be writing about, but four in the morning, when I’m desperate to get more the the hour I drifted off for earlier, is not the time to be producing quality work. 

I don’t think things would be so bad if my legs would behave. Restless leg syndrome is not something that I would inflict on anyone, especially since it’s been so amped up lately. I’m going to blame the pregnancy on that one, but I’m also going to blame the pregnancy for the lack of relief I’ve been able to get. I can only sit in scalding hot water up to my hip bones, and they don’t make magic bags big enough to cover the entirety of my knees, shins, and feet. Muscle relaxers are out, as are the sleeping pills that would allow me to pass out and possibly ignore the entire twitchy leg process.  

And it’s much more than just twitchy legs. Whenever I feel even remotely relaxed, my lower legs start to feel ke they want to walk off without the rest of my body. This has prompted me to del are, more than once, that I should just cut them off and be done with it. Luckily, Shawn has pointed out that with my stupendous track record, I would most likely end up with a wicked case of phantom limb. The only way that would be cool is if it turned out anything like Phantom Limb from Venture Bros. I could definitely rock the super villain thing right now. 

Averaging 1.5 ours a night isn’t good for anyone. There have been nights where my husband has gotten up to go to work only find me still awake and trolling the kitchen for breakfast. Affine who knows me and knows what a non-morning person I am will know that this is not a good thing. I’ve taken to sleeping whenever I can, and Shawn refusesm to wake me up from naps, even if I only want to sleep for a few hours. I can’t really fault him for that, but I really hate missing dinner. I realize that I can eat whenever, but sleep is a rarity at this point, so I should just take what I can get. 

Aside from that boat load of misery, the pregnancy is going really well. The Little Man is growing well. I’m getting more used to his routine, so it not freaking out quite as much when he has his “dormant” days. He usually slows down when he’s growing, and I can tell he’s growing because my ligaments start to hurt and my belly gets ridiculously itchy. There is no longer any mistaking that I’m pregnant. At 5’2″ and six months along (26 weeks tomorrow), he kind of has nowhere to go but out. Surprisingly, I haven’t started getting any stretch marks yet. I have been using an avocado oil body cream to help with the itchiness, but based on what my ass skin does when my weight fluctuates, the fact that I still have a smooth, lovely belly is a bit of a shock, albeit a welcome one. 

Thr same can be said for my poor, aching and leaky boobs. No stretch marks, just the standard list of other breast realted pregnancy complaints. If I’m not wearing a tight fitting top or bra my boobs go in to lactation mode. Forget wearing just a loose fitting hoodie for any length of time. Th slightest stimulation will set them off. This bodes well for my breast feeding prospects, but it’s a little annoying right now. Luckily was able to find a kick ass spots bra at VS Pink that doesn’t give me uniboob, and that has been a godsend. I don’t really like wearing my nursing bra all the damn time and their padded yoga bra is the perfect solution. That, in combination with the lanolin nipple ointment we picked up at Thyme maternity, has led to reasonable happy boobs. Unfortunately, our younger cat loves the smell of the lanolin and is constantly trying to eat it. No one ever accused Odie of being smart. 

We got the glider rocker for the Ltitle Man’s room ordered, and I couldn’t be happier with the purchase. We ordered it from Sofaland here in the city, and it’s a great Paliser number that swivels and reclines as well as glides. It’s just the right size for the room and will look awesome with the rest of our furniture when we decide to move it out to the living room.  Shawn’s Nana wanted to get our rocker for us, and generously donated $200 (or gave us $200 off the money I didn’t know we owed her) to put towards it. She seemed to think that would cover most of the cost, but everything I’ve looked at in that price range has been hideous. I don’t want a hideous chair just because that’s what people seem to think should go in a “nursery” setting. Luckily, my parents, or rather my dad, decided that he also wanted to get us our chair, and mum and I found the Percy one on our first trip. The fabric we picked is a dark slate/pewter blue and is so soft I’m certain that many a nap will be had by me in that chair. I will, of course, post pictures as soon as we get it in. 

The bedroom itself is still a blank canvas but the colours have been finalized and the decal has been chosen. It looks so much different with all the huge furniture taken out of it. We have all the new furniture picked out, but there’s no point in buying a bunch of things only to have to stack them in the middle of the room while we paint. We have the crib, and that’s enough to be getting on with. 

Shawn and I also got to see our niece on FaceTime for the first time a few weeks ago. We were having dinner with Nana and the Langley family happened to FaceTime her because the baby was awake. Now, I hate video calling, be it FaceTime, Skype, it doesn’t really matter. I don’t see the point of it, for the most part. However, it a nice to see Natalya, even if her backdrop was our sisters massive cleavage. Shawn didn’t appreciate that at all, and I don’t blame him. There are some bits of your siblings that you just never want to see. 

Now, here is where my hate of video calling comes in to play. I was right in the midst of the nasty insomnia I described above. Therefore, I didn’t really want to be out having dinner, let along video calling with anyone. I was pleasant, but I was exhausted, and at that point of the evening, I just wanted to go home. I thought I did pretty well with the whole thing until we got home and Shawn got a text from his dad that said, “Beth didn’t seem happy 2 c us????” Aside from the fact that I rarely go by the short form of my name and the fact that no one whonhas a full keyboard should use text slang, I was really hurt. This was another prime example of John jumping to erroneous conclusions about me for no good reason. 

Now, when they asked how I was, I said I was doing fine. I didn’t say I was tired, because dealing with the barrage of advice and exclamations of “it’s only going to get worse!” Is not my idea of a good time. For me, just saying that thing are going well, because when you put them in perspective they are, is the best course of action. What was probably my exhaustion coming through, he interpreted as me not wanting to see them. Fabulous. It wouldn’t have been so bad if I didn’t keep getting the distinct impression that Shawn’s dad just doesn’t like me. 

Tge first Christmas we were together, my sister in law inadvertently put something I’m allergic to in the stuffing. I was just enough to make me sick after dinner, but John assumed for a long time afterwards that I had some sort of eating disorder. when Shawn and I took our relationship break, which happened not long after my birthday, John assumed I waited because I wanted more presents and that I was, obviously, a gold digger. (I need to point out here that when we met, Shawn had recently gotten laid off and was on EI. I was the one who was working. None of these things were of importance to us, but his dad is another story.) God only knows what he thinks about me choosing to be a stay at home mum. I don’t really care, honestly, I must wish he would realize that I don’t make these choices by myself. His son would not have married me and chosen to start a family with me if he had a problem with anything I have going on. 

I’ve tried getting to know the man, but, unlike Shawn’s mom, I just can’t connect. If he wasn’t my husband’s father, I probably wouldn’t care if I knew him or not, and that makes me sad. He’ snot a bad guy, I’m sure, there are just a lot of things he doesn’t understand. I happen to be one of those things. This sucks for my husband, because it feels a lot of Netherlands time like he could care less about us having a baby. We talked to them a few days ago, and still nothing on hue her fact that we are having  a boy. H had even forgotten what our son’s name is, and that blew me away. I know Colleen told him. It was apparently just not important enough to information to retain. I will fully admit to being at my wits end with the whole thing, and my frustration and tiredness are not helping matters any. 

The key, I’ve been finding, is to focus on the positive things. Our baby is doing tremendously well. My husband is so supportive I can’t even believe how lucky I am. Not many people would get up at an insane hour on their day off and to give their wife a foot rub because she was so miserable she was ready to have the baby out, immediately. He knows what I need even if I lose sight of it. He’s always on my side, even when I’m being crazy. And, at the top of the list, he lets me play as much Pokemon as I want. 

I’m hoping the sleep situation improves. I’m hoping my OB has some suggestions on Thursday, and if not her, then my neurologist. I also hope I can find a decent holiday outfit, which may seem frivolous, but honestly? Sometimes the best way to perk up is to have a hot shower and get out of the house looking fabulous. A if I do say so myself, I look hot for six months pregnant. 

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