I am tired. Full stop.
But can I say how tired I am of the tired? "How are you?" people ask. And I reply the inevitable reply, wishing the truth were something different. Or at least more interesting.
I have completed 31 weeks of pregnancy. I am healthy; baby is healthy (kicking right now, thank you very much Momma). I know my March 17th due date is within spitting distance, but I sometimes find myself wondering how does one get there from here? Measuring the fuel in my tank and finding a shortfall in what will be required. I know there is little choice in this path; I am certainly committed to the end point - not like I can jump off this particular treadmill and say, "Enough for now. I'll come back to this later."
But doubt and fatigue weigh on me and pull me down. I hang my head and catalogue my woes. My patience and tolerence (never stellar) are pared to slivers and I try not to give myself excuses for lagging responses and bad behaviour.
Focus on this day, this person, I tell myself. One step more. There is nothing wrong with you, with us - these things will pass, hold tight.
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