At the childbirth class tonight, one of the women asked me how I slept. She was particularly interested because I look so gigantic compared to the other women, a fact I can only attribute to my small stature. God help me, let it not be the alternative: that I'm carrying a 15 pound Butterball turkey instead... Anyway, slightly embarrassed I explained that I slept the same as everyone else, I guess, except for the pulley and weight system set up in our bed and the regular turnings like a roasting chicken. I think I stand out in class as being "different."
But the truth of the matter is I don't sleep well. Or I sleep more or less like a cat now, a few hours here and there but no uninterrupted restful evenings anymore. The problem is, I really do wake up easier because there's so much of me to move now, and when I wake up I often stay that way once I start pondering imponderables like, "How can I purchase a legitimate 1930's embosser for making the birth announcements?" and "It wouldn't cost that much to move the original Gutenberg press into our basement, right?" Needless to say, I have too active an imagination for someone who wakes up every three-four hours. But me and the kid will have plenty of sleeplessness in common, I guess. For a while, anyway.
The sad thing is, my husband has to get up in an hour to go to the airport and I have to drive him since we're trying this "frugal-baby-on-the-way-no-midnight-taxis" thing, so I'll be sleepless for quite a while this morning.
Investigating the early printing press and looking for one on Ebay, I'm sure.