My third year of teaching has started up and I find myself falling into bed at night near tears from exhaustion and a sore body. How odd that the energy to teach and coach each day from about 7am to 5pm is such an exertion at this point. I find myself remembering how I feel at night and forcing myself to sit longer, eat more, not run up the stairs, not move that table, have kids move desks and get ball carts. It’s difficult. I’m not good at it.
At almost 25 weeks, I’m a little shy of a net gain of 10 pounds. It feels like 100. My balance is off, I’m dropping things left and right. I fight to not sleep on my back, but I wake to find myself there anyway. At any rate, I must be entirely supported by pillows to sleep. I snore. My belly is rock hard and is beginning to push through the soft elastic of maternity pants. I have bouts of heartburn. No one looked at me funny when I took three cookies from the admin conference room (I was bringing two to friends, honest!). My feet ache. I feel bad for my husband.
I am happy, and healthy, and everything is running smoothly. I feel odd even complaining about this and that, but I feel like I need to put it somewhere as a record.