Or at least that's what I'm telling myself. It's all I want to do and when I finally get the chance to indulge in some extra Zzz's, I cannot for the life of me catch any. It, I must say, is so frustrating!
Braxton Hicks - the practice contractions you sometimes are unlucky enough to cop when you're up the duff, are probably the only thing worse than the sleep deprivation. Some of my finer efforts include laying on my side, unable to move/speak/breath for several seconds while the tightening makes itself at home in my uterus and the embarrassing moment where I try and stretch through a wave of them at traffic lights in the car and later realise anyone who had pulled up beside me must've thought I was a bit of a weirdo.
But, I am blessed with the thought that I am 36 weeks pregnant. Technically I've only got 4 weeks left of this uncomfortably wonderful time - but I know how many days less than 4 weeks I've got before they induce me - and just because I haven't told you doesn't mean I'm not quietly shitting myself that I won't even make it that far.
Ok. Rant over. Bed time. Night all.
xoxo
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