I’ve gotten to that point in pregnancy where, despite exhaustion, sleep has become elusive because I can’t maneuver myself in bed quite as nimbly as I once could. 3-4 hours a night is nice, compared to the amount of sleep I had in most of 2013, but it gives my mind much too much time to wander aimlessly into it’s darkest corners at these quiet hours of the night.
The nesting urge has been overwhelming lately. I’ve been trying not to fight it as much. I’m stuck somewhere between being terrified to jinx myself, and needing desperately to do something that makes me feel like this pregnancy isn’t doomed to repeat history. I’ve been insistent, and remain so, that I don’t want anyone to purchase anything for this baby. Not until it is here safe and sound. There won’t be a baby shower. In fact, I’m pretty confident in the fact that I won’t ever be attending another baby shower, ever. But despite that, part of me feels the need to make a few purchases, just to convince myself that this isn’t just some elaborate lie I’ve made up in my head to ease myself of the pain of losing Everlee. I’m stuck somewhere between a rock and a hard place, so I’m trying to find a comfy piece of grass to curl into the fetal position in between.
In the meantime, the isolation is slowly eating away at my brain. The best rest isn’t so bad, but the loneliness is exhausting. It’s hard to have people visit too when you’re in no state to play hostess to them. The idea of having people in my house and not entertaining them is stressful to me. I feel like I should have food and drink and things for them when they’re here, and I’m just not capable of that. An every so often I just feel myself fall to pieces from the loneliness of it all. But my wonderful nurses, they see that. They see that living in a constant state of being an incubator can take a toll on the mind, and they assess the situation and every so often grant me a short spurt of parole where I can ride in the car and get my own coffee at Starbucks, so I can see normal humans interacting and be assured that the world continues beyond the walls of my house and the hospital, the hospital and my house. Lather, rinse, repeat.
I’m not complaining. I’m taking every possible second to enjoy the mechanics of this pregnancy. Every wiggle and every poke. I revel in the shadow of my swelling belly, and I enjoy every moment of singing and talking to my wriggling belly. I don’t take a second of my time with this growing baby for granted, because I realize in a heartbeat it could all change. I just wish sometimes that I could live in that place of ignorant bliss where being pregnant and having a nursery and feeling kicks and picking out names actually means you’re coming home with a baby. But I know better. I just hope for better.
But it’s 6:25am. I’ve been awake since 2. It’s probably time I try to sleep for another hour, and dream sweet dreams where nothing’s real, and nothing hurts.