I have been listening to Of Monsters and Men’s My Head is an Animal album all week. It makes me so happy. And I just love this track, “Little Talks.” When I hear it, I feel like somebody has handed me a shining gift and, when I open it, the gift is freedom. Maybe that’s what I’m craving.
It seems like the closer my beautiful Baby B is to arriving, and the more exhausted my body feels from carrying and nurturing her, the busier I get.
I am swamped with work. Literally swamped, with towers of notes and briefings spilling over my desk and into the lounge room and onto the sweet little rocking chair that Mr B bought for me to nurse baby, not laptop.
We’ve had weeks upon weeks of house guests and dinner guests and travel plans and outings and shopping trips to try to prepare for baby’s birth. So much housework! How does our home get so messy and so dirty so quickly?
I’m trying to write my next book, get started on an exciting new creative, collaborative project that will launch next year, and keep up with my blog.
This is all fun and I feel deeply loved by my friends and family, but I am also in somewhat of a spin. I’m prone to sudden bouts of dizziness and moments of “I must lie down, NOW,” which do not work well with deadlines.
And I am not sleeping. What with the kicks (not that I’m complaining about those, oh how I love those kicks), the cramps (I WILL complain about the cramps), the carpal tunnel syndrome I’ve had in my hands and wrists since the start of my pregnancy, the back spasms when I roll the wrong way, and the stuffy nose, very little sleep goes on during those long night hours.
I wish I knew how other people did it. I don’t see other pregnant women looking as done-in as I feel. They have that glow everyone talks about.
And of course I’m nervous. I know that this is just the beginning of sleepless nights and incessant demands on my time. That I am about to enter a whole new realm of indentured service to a tiny, beloved dictator. We don’t have the financial luxury of me being able to be the stay-at-home mum I long to be, so I will need to juggle the dictator with deadlines, too.
But when all is said and done, I’m doing ok. I will figure it all out, somehow. From what I hear I’ve had a very easy road in this pregnancy, and I truly am grateful. Just tired.
Oh, and another thing that is cheering me this week, alongside “Little Talks,” is my memory of France last year: of being there with my friends, of exploring Paris and basking in the heat of the south, and of little Baby B beginning to grow inside me, although I didn’t know about that yet.