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It’s 5:14 a.m.

I am awake.


I’ve been awake since shortly before 4:00 a.m. I woke up because I had to go pee. The nightly potty break in my REM cycles has been a regular occurrence for me since about week 7. Some women reported that they got a break in the frequent urination during the second trimester. For me, no dice. I’ve probably peed enough to overcome the drought that’s been plaguing the northern part of my state for the past year. If urine weren’t, well, urine, that is.

This morning, I just said “SCREW IT!” after having laid in bed for at least thirty minutes trying to get to sleep. I had been through the normal routine of laying on my side cuddled up to my Boppy Total Body pillow, followed by punching DH in the shoulder to get him to roll over and stop snoring, followed by laying partially on my back with a pillow shoved under my hip to keep my uterus from pressing on my vena cava and shorting blood flow to my legs, followed by rolling back onto my left side (this time a little harder so as to shake the bed and make DH roll over again to stop his snoring), followed by doing all of that all over again.

Nothing worked. I couldn’t get back to sleep. I was wide awake and I was getting anxious at the fact that I wasn’t falling back to sleep.

It is going to be a really, really, really long day, and Annie is going to be a freaking nightmare when I get home so I won’t even be able to come home and nap.

When DH wakes up, I must ask him how much he loves me and see if I can get him to make a pot of coffee.

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