That's how tired we are.
New Year
10 years ago
Showing posts with label fatigue. Show all posts
Showing posts with label fatigue. Show all posts
Thursday, 22 April 2010
How tired are we?
Twice now we've put on episode one of The Wire, Series 3, and twice now we've fallen asleep in front of it.
Sunday, 9 March 2008
Is this rock bottom?
So the good news about this week just gone is that I'm recovering nicely from the op - soreness has subsided and I'm much more mobile and able to do things for myself. The excess glue from around the wound (no stitches this time - some new-fangled superglue instead) is beginning to come loose as the doctor said it would. I was told to rub my tummy well in the shower and let it come off, but to be honest it comes off more easily when it's dry. The bits that come off look like a cross between dead skin and copydex - mmmmmm, nice - and I've started to indulge in slightly disgusting, childlike behaviour by seeing how long a piece I can peel off before it makes me wince.
The bad news about this week just gone is just about everything else. The bf's meagre two weeks of pat leave finished oh so quickly, so he went back to work last week. My mum very graciously took some time off her work to come and stay and help out while I was still recovering. Unfortunately her visit coincided with me hitting the fed up button as the realities of what my life will be like feeding on demand for the next few months begin to sink in and I've just acted like a stressed out bitch to her for the best part of a week.
On a normal day I'm pretty obsessive about keeping my household in good order, but absolute control freakery has taken over since Felix was born (not a new thing - it was much the same after Jasmine too) so in true Monica Gellar style I have been completely and utterly anal about how to handle baby/help me breastfeed/ clean stuff up/ wash things/ stack stuff/ tidy up/place things/ do pretty much anything and everything. I've also been a bit of a Nazi about when to do it. ie IMMEDIATELY. NOW. PREFERABLY YESTERDAY. As opposed to the saccharine world of American sitcom, however, there is absolutely nothing funny about my control freakery, and I am quite relentless in my "requests" for stuff to get done "properly" so I wasn't the easiest person for my Mum to be around. And that's putting it politely.
But what made me particularly snappy and stressed last week was my continuing sense of concern, anxiety and guilt about any negative impact that Felix' arrival into our home might be having on Jasmine. I actually think she's very cool with it all, and is handling the change just fine, so my worrying about it all is taking more of a toll on me than it is on her. In all honesty it's mainly a drama that is playing out in my head and nowhere else, because if I entertain the merest thought that something I am doing might lead Jasmine to feel a bit neglected or left out then it simply breaks my heart, and I can't deal with that feeling. What it does mean is that I try to overcompensate by lavishing attention on Jasmine when I can, which is not very often because I'm knackered all the time, so I expect absolutely everyone else (aka my mum) to be equally focused on her when they're here. This is particularly true when I'm feeding Felix, which is just about always, so instead of feeling calm and relaxed and enjoying it, as I'm supposed to, I just feel tense and edgy and wired about how Jasmine feels seeing me feed him all the time. So I try and feed Felix and at the same time talk to Jasmine or read books with her, which is exhausting and difficult, so when someone else is here, aka my mum, I just end up barking instructions at her to get on the floor and dedicate some quality playing time to Jasmine. Which of course Jasmine doesn't always need and my mum doesn't always want to (or indeed have to) do. And it all just makes me feel more and more stressesd.
Everything came to a head last Thursday. Jasmine had a crappy cold and was being particularly clingy. She gave her cold to my mum and me. I was still pissed off with my mum for no good resason. And obviously I was dog tired, not having got used to snatching a couple of hours sleep here and there to last me through. The bf came home quite tired and scratchy and we snapped at each other over "do you want dinner on a plate? or bowl?". Apparently, I was "nagging" over the plate or bowl question. Which I really don't think I was, but I'm allowing for the fact that I could have been because the thing about being utterly exhausted is that every fibre of your being is so focused on getting through the rest of the day and hoping, praying, dreaming that you might be able to go to bed soon that you have absolutely no grip on what you're saying, how you're saying it or how you come across. And your emotions are terribly raw, and everything seems more intense than normal.
So when the bf said the N word (nagging) something inside just snapped. First I felt super angry, with both him and my mum, for being the two closest people to me and for being right there in the house with me and yet having absolutely no idea about how my life wasn't covered in a rosy, glowing, new-baby-hue, but was more akin to a solitary living hell in which everyone else got time to be normal and do normal things like read books and check email and play games and watch TV and sleep, but where I was exempt from those rules and just got to look after children, do housework and generally feel like shit.
Then pretty soon after that the anger turned into doubt and a total loss of self confidence. Over the belief that it was probably me and not them, and that I probably had been acting like a bitch to my mum without her deserving it, and that I probably had snapped plate or bowl at the boyfried unncessarily and then that appallingly destructive feeling of self pity mingled with self loathing washed over me terribly. And the tears came soon after that.
But they didn't come over dinner, or during Jambeans' bed time because I managed to stuff them back in, but they started flowing pretty heavily as soon as I was on my own - which happened to be when I was giving Felix his next feed. So there I was, sitting alone on my bed, in the dark, holding a two week old baby, and hating myself, hating my life, feeling alone and like nobody close to me understood what I was going through or why I was so miserable, all rounded off with a heavy dose of guilt that my negative feelings were all going to rub off on the bub. I was physically exhausted, emotionally spent, and I remember asking myself "Is this rock bottom?"
Which I guess it was. I felt so awful about how I had been treating everyone, and convinced that I was being a total bitch all the time (which I probably wasn't - it's just that I had no grip on reality) that on Friday I fessed up to my mum, amid yet more tears, about how shit I felt about being a nasty, snappy, bossy cow to her all week and about how I didn't feel in control of myself at all and that behaving like that made me not like myself at all.
And then she did the best thing - the thing that only mums can do.
She gave me a big cuddle and made it all right again.
So then we had a chat about everything, and she gave me lots of emotional support and I started to feel better about everything.
That's not to say that it hasn't continued to be fucking difficult. My cold is a bit of a stinker and is making it hard for me to sleep even when I do have the chance. And in the few days that have passed since Mum went home I've still found it hard to cope with how desperately lonely and boring breastfeeding round the clock can be (not to mention extremely painful on the nipples).
And when I'm at the beck and call of a small baby who doesn't understand anything than his constant need for food, sleep and new nappies, irrespective of what my needs are, then I have felt extremely resentful towards the other adults around me, namely the bf. And I know that's not particularly fair, but I feel it anyway, and then I waste valuable sleeping time calculating how much sleep he gets a night (ca. 6.5 continuous hours) compared to me (average 4.5 hours in 90 minute shifts) and I hate how still finds time to do his hobbies (ie reading, gaming or tinkering with the pooter) when I still haven't read a Heat amgazine that I bought 4 days ago, and even when I do get round to it then even looking at the pictures feels like a real challenge.
But generally, I do feel better and am beginning to enjoy the new mum thing again and I will get easier.
The bad news about this week just gone is just about everything else. The bf's meagre two weeks of pat leave finished oh so quickly, so he went back to work last week. My mum very graciously took some time off her work to come and stay and help out while I was still recovering. Unfortunately her visit coincided with me hitting the fed up button as the realities of what my life will be like feeding on demand for the next few months begin to sink in and I've just acted like a stressed out bitch to her for the best part of a week.
On a normal day I'm pretty obsessive about keeping my household in good order, but absolute control freakery has taken over since Felix was born (not a new thing - it was much the same after Jasmine too) so in true Monica Gellar style I have been completely and utterly anal about how to handle baby/help me breastfeed/ clean stuff up/ wash things/ stack stuff/ tidy up/place things/ do pretty much anything and everything. I've also been a bit of a Nazi about when to do it. ie IMMEDIATELY. NOW. PREFERABLY YESTERDAY. As opposed to the saccharine world of American sitcom, however, there is absolutely nothing funny about my control freakery, and I am quite relentless in my "requests" for stuff to get done "properly" so I wasn't the easiest person for my Mum to be around. And that's putting it politely.
But what made me particularly snappy and stressed last week was my continuing sense of concern, anxiety and guilt about any negative impact that Felix' arrival into our home might be having on Jasmine. I actually think she's very cool with it all, and is handling the change just fine, so my worrying about it all is taking more of a toll on me than it is on her. In all honesty it's mainly a drama that is playing out in my head and nowhere else, because if I entertain the merest thought that something I am doing might lead Jasmine to feel a bit neglected or left out then it simply breaks my heart, and I can't deal with that feeling. What it does mean is that I try to overcompensate by lavishing attention on Jasmine when I can, which is not very often because I'm knackered all the time, so I expect absolutely everyone else (aka my mum) to be equally focused on her when they're here. This is particularly true when I'm feeding Felix, which is just about always, so instead of feeling calm and relaxed and enjoying it, as I'm supposed to, I just feel tense and edgy and wired about how Jasmine feels seeing me feed him all the time. So I try and feed Felix and at the same time talk to Jasmine or read books with her, which is exhausting and difficult, so when someone else is here, aka my mum, I just end up barking instructions at her to get on the floor and dedicate some quality playing time to Jasmine. Which of course Jasmine doesn't always need and my mum doesn't always want to (or indeed have to) do. And it all just makes me feel more and more stressesd.
Everything came to a head last Thursday. Jasmine had a crappy cold and was being particularly clingy. She gave her cold to my mum and me. I was still pissed off with my mum for no good resason. And obviously I was dog tired, not having got used to snatching a couple of hours sleep here and there to last me through. The bf came home quite tired and scratchy and we snapped at each other over "do you want dinner on a plate? or bowl?". Apparently, I was "nagging" over the plate or bowl question. Which I really don't think I was, but I'm allowing for the fact that I could have been because the thing about being utterly exhausted is that every fibre of your being is so focused on getting through the rest of the day and hoping, praying, dreaming that you might be able to go to bed soon that you have absolutely no grip on what you're saying, how you're saying it or how you come across. And your emotions are terribly raw, and everything seems more intense than normal.
So when the bf said the N word (nagging) something inside just snapped. First I felt super angry, with both him and my mum, for being the two closest people to me and for being right there in the house with me and yet having absolutely no idea about how my life wasn't covered in a rosy, glowing, new-baby-hue, but was more akin to a solitary living hell in which everyone else got time to be normal and do normal things like read books and check email and play games and watch TV and sleep, but where I was exempt from those rules and just got to look after children, do housework and generally feel like shit.
Then pretty soon after that the anger turned into doubt and a total loss of self confidence. Over the belief that it was probably me and not them, and that I probably had been acting like a bitch to my mum without her deserving it, and that I probably had snapped plate or bowl at the boyfried unncessarily and then that appallingly destructive feeling of self pity mingled with self loathing washed over me terribly. And the tears came soon after that.
But they didn't come over dinner, or during Jambeans' bed time because I managed to stuff them back in, but they started flowing pretty heavily as soon as I was on my own - which happened to be when I was giving Felix his next feed. So there I was, sitting alone on my bed, in the dark, holding a two week old baby, and hating myself, hating my life, feeling alone and like nobody close to me understood what I was going through or why I was so miserable, all rounded off with a heavy dose of guilt that my negative feelings were all going to rub off on the bub. I was physically exhausted, emotionally spent, and I remember asking myself "Is this rock bottom?"
Which I guess it was. I felt so awful about how I had been treating everyone, and convinced that I was being a total bitch all the time (which I probably wasn't - it's just that I had no grip on reality) that on Friday I fessed up to my mum, amid yet more tears, about how shit I felt about being a nasty, snappy, bossy cow to her all week and about how I didn't feel in control of myself at all and that behaving like that made me not like myself at all.
And then she did the best thing - the thing that only mums can do.
She gave me a big cuddle and made it all right again.
So then we had a chat about everything, and she gave me lots of emotional support and I started to feel better about everything.
That's not to say that it hasn't continued to be fucking difficult. My cold is a bit of a stinker and is making it hard for me to sleep even when I do have the chance. And in the few days that have passed since Mum went home I've still found it hard to cope with how desperately lonely and boring breastfeeding round the clock can be (not to mention extremely painful on the nipples).
And when I'm at the beck and call of a small baby who doesn't understand anything than his constant need for food, sleep and new nappies, irrespective of what my needs are, then I have felt extremely resentful towards the other adults around me, namely the bf. And I know that's not particularly fair, but I feel it anyway, and then I waste valuable sleeping time calculating how much sleep he gets a night (ca. 6.5 continuous hours) compared to me (average 4.5 hours in 90 minute shifts) and I hate how still finds time to do his hobbies (ie reading, gaming or tinkering with the pooter) when I still haven't read a Heat amgazine that I bought 4 days ago, and even when I do get round to it then even looking at the pictures feels like a real challenge.
But generally, I do feel better and am beginning to enjoy the new mum thing again and I will get easier.
Monday, 13 August 2007
2 days of hell followed by 2 days of heaven
Had to take Jambeans to hospital just over a week ago. She caught a virus that went to her chest and couldn't breathe easily, and was slipping in and out of consciousness at one point. Mum was with me - we'd arranged for her to come and visit on my day off so I could have a hand - which was a real blessing, though I was a bit mean to her because Jambeans had been so difficult since the morning and I was sooo tired and emotional and finding it hard to cope that when she did turn up after a pretty long commute she had to contend with a very grumpy and snappy babymomma. But thank god she was there because it helped me make the decision to take the bub to hospital.
When we got there it wasn't too busy and they took one look at the bub and fast-tracked her right through triage. Then they gave her oxygen and a course of nebulizers over the next few hours that seemed to help enormously, plus a bit of paracetamol and ibuprofen for the temperature. Jambeans behaved enormously well, given that she was confined to a single bed for hours, but she was so poorly she didn't feel much like scrumbling around until much much later, when we were all knackered and she was perking up.
They discharged us around 11pm - we had got there at 4pm and bf had joined us straight after work - so we were all beginning to find it a bit of an ordeal.
Next day was uber tough too as we were so knackered. It was my first Friday working since going up to 4 days a week but I didn't go in and stayed home to help Bf look after the bub.
Steve and Jessica (la Gitane) were coming for dinner so we had an italian picnic (ie - no cooking involved) in the garden and it very chilled and wonderful and set the tone for two glorious days of sunshine and happy baby ahead, so we went back to Kew gardens and got totally blissed out again.
When we got there it wasn't too busy and they took one look at the bub and fast-tracked her right through triage. Then they gave her oxygen and a course of nebulizers over the next few hours that seemed to help enormously, plus a bit of paracetamol and ibuprofen for the temperature. Jambeans behaved enormously well, given that she was confined to a single bed for hours, but she was so poorly she didn't feel much like scrumbling around until much much later, when we were all knackered and she was perking up.
They discharged us around 11pm - we had got there at 4pm and bf had joined us straight after work - so we were all beginning to find it a bit of an ordeal.
Next day was uber tough too as we were so knackered. It was my first Friday working since going up to 4 days a week but I didn't go in and stayed home to help Bf look after the bub.
Steve and Jessica (la Gitane) were coming for dinner so we had an italian picnic (ie - no cooking involved) in the garden and it very chilled and wonderful and set the tone for two glorious days of sunshine and happy baby ahead, so we went back to Kew gardens and got totally blissed out again.
Thursday, 12 July 2007
More buns / still feeling low
Looked in the book last night under the 'signs of miscarriage' section and it clearly said that "simply not feeling pregnant" was not a sign that anything was remotely wrong, so felt greatly sobered (as well as faintly embarrassed I succumbed to such niaiserie in the first place).
Feeling pregnant is back on the agenda today anyway, which helps the mental state, but meant I felt like total crap all day with a bit of completely knackered poo thrown in for good measure.
Leon called today to say that Mary was 12 weeks pregnant, yaaaaaaaay, which means for LEH Christmas (which is this weekend, obviously) four of the six of us girls will be sporting buns - me (due Feb 25th), Mary (due Jan 22nd), Hannah (due Dec 22nd) and Jade (due October sometime)
But I'm the only one who can't tell anyone :-( boo hoo boo hoo boo hoo
Feeling pregnant is back on the agenda today anyway, which helps the mental state, but meant I felt like total crap all day with a bit of completely knackered poo thrown in for good measure.
Leon called today to say that Mary was 12 weeks pregnant, yaaaaaaaay, which means for LEH Christmas (which is this weekend, obviously) four of the six of us girls will be sporting buns - me (due Feb 25th), Mary (due Jan 22nd), Hannah (due Dec 22nd) and Jade (due October sometime)
But I'm the only one who can't tell anyone :-( boo hoo boo hoo boo hoo
Wednesday, 11 July 2007
Was it the smoked salmon?
Bf was on call last night, didn't get in till midnight (busy saving lives like a hero. sigh). I was also shattered from way way way too much work stress. Perfect recipe for coma sleep.
So why oh why oh why did we both wake up at 01.37 this morning and not get back to sleep?
Was it because we had gone to bed at 9pm? Why didn't remaking the bed work? Or the hot chocolate? Or getting up to watch telly to tire us out? (8 out of 10 cats - perhaps too funny? Should have gone for a war documentary) Or reading our books? Or listening to the iPod?
Why didn't they work? Or was it the smoked salmon we had for dinner? (And for that matter, why isn't Jambeans sleeping now?)
So, another day of pushing through glazed eyes caffeine high manic sweats screen flicker semi consciousness at work followed by tube nausea once i stopped. oh joy. my life is such joy right now.
So why oh why oh why did we both wake up at 01.37 this morning and not get back to sleep?
Was it because we had gone to bed at 9pm? Why didn't remaking the bed work? Or the hot chocolate? Or getting up to watch telly to tire us out? (8 out of 10 cats - perhaps too funny? Should have gone for a war documentary) Or reading our books? Or listening to the iPod?
Why didn't they work? Or was it the smoked salmon we had for dinner? (And for that matter, why isn't Jambeans sleeping now?)
So, another day of pushing through glazed eyes caffeine high manic sweats screen flicker semi consciousness at work followed by tube nausea once i stopped. oh joy. my life is such joy right now.
Monday, 9 July 2007
6 weeks 6 days in - feeling worse each day
tinny taste in mouth. felt first proper wave of nausea this morning - but no actual vomiting thank god. crippling fatigue still omnipresent. feel super super short-fused and angry all the time and have resorted to taking it out on all the rude and uninformed cold callers at work, particularly those with sub-human IQ levels.
told mum yesterday. she was v. excited. it was at seema's birthday party so didn't have more than a minute to ourselves to talk about it but how i wish i wish i wish she asked me how i was feeling bc quite honestly am desperate for a sympathetic ear.
why hasn't my superhero sense of smell returned? that was quite fun. but then, it is lavender season (possibly the most nauseating smell in the world) so maybe i should be careful what i wish for.
told mum yesterday. she was v. excited. it was at seema's birthday party so didn't have more than a minute to ourselves to talk about it but how i wish i wish i wish she asked me how i was feeling bc quite honestly am desperate for a sympathetic ear.
why hasn't my superhero sense of smell returned? that was quite fun. but then, it is lavender season (possibly the most nauseating smell in the world) so maybe i should be careful what i wish for.
Thursday, 5 July 2007
too tired and hormonal to feel happy
bf has gone to west country for his grandma's funeral.
will miss him muchly but he could really do with a break. AND i get to watch gray's anatomy properly for once (rather than in 5 minutes bursts when i can squeeze it in over the weekend).
i've felt very isolated for the last couple of days. the bf is acting like i'm not preggers at all - just getting on with things, in that uber-pragmatic way of his. and he's probably also just waiting till after the results of the first scan when we can feel more confident we're in the clear. we've also both spent the last couple of days wrapped up in our own private worlds, lots of stress at work for both of us, and it's been affecting us both. so we're both pre-occupied. and we're both tired. so they're all good reasons.
but i just can't stop thinking about how i'm pregnant again. and i want to share it all with him. and feel excited together. and nervous together. and i want him to know how i feel physically. and i want to feel close to him. and i want us to exchange those special looks that say 'we've got a happy secret.' and i want him to reach over and pat my tummy like he did last time.
but there's been none of that. just distance. and isolation. and irrepressible amounts of rage (hormone induced). and body shattering fatigue.
pregnancy sucks.
will miss him muchly but he could really do with a break. AND i get to watch gray's anatomy properly for once (rather than in 5 minutes bursts when i can squeeze it in over the weekend).
i've felt very isolated for the last couple of days. the bf is acting like i'm not preggers at all - just getting on with things, in that uber-pragmatic way of his. and he's probably also just waiting till after the results of the first scan when we can feel more confident we're in the clear. we've also both spent the last couple of days wrapped up in our own private worlds, lots of stress at work for both of us, and it's been affecting us both. so we're both pre-occupied. and we're both tired. so they're all good reasons.
but i just can't stop thinking about how i'm pregnant again. and i want to share it all with him. and feel excited together. and nervous together. and i want him to know how i feel physically. and i want to feel close to him. and i want us to exchange those special looks that say 'we've got a happy secret.' and i want him to reach over and pat my tummy like he did last time.
but there's been none of that. just distance. and isolation. and irrepressible amounts of rage (hormone induced). and body shattering fatigue.
pregnancy sucks.
bad beginning to a bad evening
i'm so desperately tired. said it before. will say it again.
also feel like i'm barely keeping things together. don't remember feeling this knackered first time around, but maybe it's because having a lie in or taking it easy were options then.
had a shocking day yesterday. felt very tearful and depressed. work was extremely stressful - a lethal combination of exhaustion from my sleepless night and non-stop pressure trying to clear the decks before my working week was out. found myself feeling both extremely angry and unable to cope when anything held me up for so much as a few seconds. the tears started leaking out at one point. managed to stuff them back in, but only just. thankfully no one was around to see.
had a slight reprieve - bf called to say he would pick jambeans up. so i got to sweat it out at work for an extra hour. but the dizziness and nausea caused by sleepless night hit the minute i stopped, and hit baaaad. journey home was a nightmare.
got home. jambeans started screaming blue murder moment she saw me. purple face, constant tears, high decibel type shrieking. something obviously very wrong but god knows if we could work it out. she was inconsolable. finally, i settled on teething as the cause. kept looking to boyfried for back up because i wasn't 100% sure. he was adamant it wasn't pain for loads of good, logical reasons i can't remember. i got frustrated cos my gut was saying 'teething' over and over. but was most pissed off with myself for not trusting my gut. was hanging on by a thread at this stage. succumbed to deep, inner rage.
boyfried had been dealing with screaming babies all day and was also super stressed out. moreso than me. acopeia hit him first so mid shriek he said he couldn't deal with it anymore, put jambeans on the floor and walked away. never seen him do anything like that before. never seen him so much as a break a sweat before. freaked me out. no, later, it freaked me out. at that point - just felt resentful that he got a time out.
didn't go for long. returned to administer calpol. within minutes the bub was bubbling again. all smiles.
just felt completely drained.
also feel like i'm barely keeping things together. don't remember feeling this knackered first time around, but maybe it's because having a lie in or taking it easy were options then.
had a shocking day yesterday. felt very tearful and depressed. work was extremely stressful - a lethal combination of exhaustion from my sleepless night and non-stop pressure trying to clear the decks before my working week was out. found myself feeling both extremely angry and unable to cope when anything held me up for so much as a few seconds. the tears started leaking out at one point. managed to stuff them back in, but only just. thankfully no one was around to see.
had a slight reprieve - bf called to say he would pick jambeans up. so i got to sweat it out at work for an extra hour. but the dizziness and nausea caused by sleepless night hit the minute i stopped, and hit baaaad. journey home was a nightmare.
got home. jambeans started screaming blue murder moment she saw me. purple face, constant tears, high decibel type shrieking. something obviously very wrong but god knows if we could work it out. she was inconsolable. finally, i settled on teething as the cause. kept looking to boyfried for back up because i wasn't 100% sure. he was adamant it wasn't pain for loads of good, logical reasons i can't remember. i got frustrated cos my gut was saying 'teething' over and over. but was most pissed off with myself for not trusting my gut. was hanging on by a thread at this stage. succumbed to deep, inner rage.
boyfried had been dealing with screaming babies all day and was also super stressed out. moreso than me. acopeia hit him first so mid shriek he said he couldn't deal with it anymore, put jambeans on the floor and walked away. never seen him do anything like that before. never seen him so much as a break a sweat before. freaked me out. no, later, it freaked me out. at that point - just felt resentful that he got a time out.
didn't go for long. returned to administer calpol. within minutes the bub was bubbling again. all smiles.
just felt completely drained.
Wednesday, 4 July 2007
bolt awake since 3am
couldn't sleep last night.
woke at 3,
lay awake,
eyes wide open,
heart beating fast,
totally wired.
i'm worried about my future.
i suppose i ought to write i'm worried about the future, and that's why i can't sleep. worried about things like global warming and bomb threats and wanting to protect my children.
but it's not true. they're not enough for me to lose sleep about.
it's all about ME.
my future.
work.
family.
money.
that stuff.
and now i am stiff.
and wired.
and tired.
and stressed.
about my future.
aaaaaaarrrggghhhhhh.
woke at 3,
lay awake,
eyes wide open,
heart beating fast,
totally wired.
i'm worried about my future.
i suppose i ought to write i'm worried about the future, and that's why i can't sleep. worried about things like global warming and bomb threats and wanting to protect my children.
but it's not true. they're not enough for me to lose sleep about.
it's all about ME.
my future.
work.
family.
money.
that stuff.
and now i am stiff.
and wired.
and tired.
and stressed.
about my future.
aaaaaaarrrggghhhhhh.
Sunday, 1 July 2007
Fear of fatigue
Sunday 1st July
Think I overdid it today - was just desperate to regain order in the house after builders had turned it upside down last week, so got up early to shift boxes and furniture before cleaner arrived. Also have been guilty of hoovering which is a bit bloody stoopid, given how my back is so messed up and what happened last time I hoovered.
Am very worried about feeling tired all the time. It's OK right now but hope it doesn't get worse as that would be an absolute nightmare.
I hate this bit of pregnancy. Actually I hate all bits of pregnancy, but right now I am reserving my hate-energy for this bit. Time is moving treacle slow right now. I so desperately want to be past the 12-week marker so I can tell people, and so the risk of something going wrong is less. And by that time it will be too far away from 6 or 7 months for me to start panicking about whether baby will be premature. And fingers crossed I won’t be sick.
Think I overdid it today - was just desperate to regain order in the house after builders had turned it upside down last week, so got up early to shift boxes and furniture before cleaner arrived. Also have been guilty of hoovering which is a bit bloody stoopid, given how my back is so messed up and what happened last time I hoovered.
Am very worried about feeling tired all the time. It's OK right now but hope it doesn't get worse as that would be an absolute nightmare.
I hate this bit of pregnancy. Actually I hate all bits of pregnancy, but right now I am reserving my hate-energy for this bit. Time is moving treacle slow right now. I so desperately want to be past the 12-week marker so I can tell people, and so the risk of something going wrong is less. And by that time it will be too far away from 6 or 7 months for me to start panicking about whether baby will be premature. And fingers crossed I won’t be sick.
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