I've sort of disappeared, right?
It's not intentional. I'm just so tired these days. I mean, that's not surprising - I'm the size of a house, and all of my joints are loose - but I feel like I'm scrambling at work all of the time, because I don't just have to keep up, I have to get ready to leave my staff on their own for three months, and I have no idea how that's going to work. I know that three months isn't actually so long, but that doesn't make me feel like less of a slacker in advance.
Please don't get me wrong: I AM NOT COMPLAINING ABOUT BEING PREGNANT! I am thrilled to be pregnant. I am grateful to be pregnant. I cherish and treasure every moment of being kicked in the bladder and waking up every morning with hip pain so bad I can't put weight on my right leg for five minutes. Elastic waist pants are good for my soul! I like worrying about whether my colleagues at work will assume that every minor mistake I make is because I have "pregnancy brain," and if I get frustrated with a staffer wondering if they're blaming it on "hormones" when I go back to my office.
Sarcasm aside, I really am happy, obviously. But, man, I'm exhausted. And sometimes, exhausted ladies just have to vent. And, right after my miscarriage this summer, would I have hated to read this post coming from someone else? Yes. Yes, I would have hated reading it. I would have cried and been depressed and thought horrible, dark thoughts about how some people don't know how good they have it. And none of that makes me happier when I wake up in the morning and can't put weight on my right leg. That sucks, no matter how long you tried to get pregnant or thought you wouldn't be able to.
So, that was a whole lot of whining. In truth, it's not so bad, and even if it were, I don't have to do it for very much longer. Then I'll have a whole new set of stuff to be both excited and exhausted about. I should go back to cleaning the kitchen for Passover. I miss all of you.