How do I miss thee, caffeine? Let me count the […]
How do I miss thee, caffeine? Let me count the ways. I miss the energized, alert buzz that follows the second strong cup of coffee. That peppy, fueled-for-the-day feeling that makes me feel like I can conquer my inbox and cross 10 things off my to-do list. I miss going to Starbucks without checking the caffeine milligram content of my order. I miss drinking a sugar-free Red Bull once in awhile just for fun. My allowed one cup of coffee per day is just NOT cutting it.
I’m so tired—of being pregnant, of not sleeping, of feeling like a narcoleptic. I’m just tired. The other day I made a Pandora station of ’90s pop music. Not because of a deep, undying love for the band Aqua (“Barbie Girl,” anyone?) but because I needed something that I could blast through my headphones and prevent me from falling asleep at my desk. I’d already had my one permitted cup of coffee that morning—even sneaked in a little extra for good measure—but it did nothing to ward off the feeling that if I closed my eyes, I might lay my head down on my keyboard and never wake up.
My third trimester has been a lot like my first trimester in terms of exhaustion. If you’ve been reading my posts throughout my pregnancy, you might remember how I wrote in my first trimester about going to bed at 6:30 every night. I’m that tired again. Unfortunately I can’t come home from work, change into sweatpants and climb into bed these days because I’ve got a seriously massive to-do list. My nights are spent unpacking our new house (yes, still), setting up her room (currently looks like a tornado went through it) and washing every kind linen and item of clothing that she owns (almost more than I have at this point). By the time I fall into bed around 9:30 or 10:00 p.m., I feel like I’ve just had the longest day of my life. Every day. How can every day be the longest day of my life?
I get that this is all just Mother Nature’s way of preparing me for being up all night with a newborn; I haven’t slept uninterrupted in months—and I know I won’t for a long time. Also, since I plan to breastfeed, the future of my caffeine intake looks bleak, too.
I know I’ll be tired once she’s born—and I literally never sleep, but in my head, it seems like it will be different because she’ll be here. She will be sleeping in my arms rather than shoved under my ribcage. I will be able to smell the top of her head rather than try to catch my breath when I lie on my back for two seconds. That level of tired will be different. That level of tired will be worth it. Right?