Pregnancy 31w1d

I laid down to take a nap yesterday, hoping sleep would give me a break from the pain for a little while. Inara suddenly got very active, so I put my hand on my belly to feel her. She kicked hard in one spot, so I placed my fingers there, and she pushed her little foot up against them.

In that moment, separated by layers of skin, fat, and uterus, I was touching her. I started sobbing uncontrollably. I couldn’t possibly be more close to her physically, but she felt so far away. I wanted to hold her, touch her, see her. She’s out of reach and every day I have to wait kills me a little inside. I of course don’t want her to come before she’s grown, but my heart is breaking. I love her so much I could die. I just couldn’t stop crying.

Eventually, I calmed down. The pain and hormones are taking their toll, and probably my lower dose of Prozac too. There are so many reasons I just want this pregnancy to be over. I hope she’s done “baking” just a little early, I can’t help it. Holding her will make this all worth it.

On the lighter side, I’ve been having some wacky dreams lately. In one, my friends Joelle and Kristin and I, along with some random guy, were roommates at a Hogwarts-like school, but a modern building instead of a castle. Luna Lovegood went there too, and got “too popular” for some peoples’ liking, and they sabotaged her Klout score, so she got sad and dropped out. I don’t remember much else except taking a wrong turn on a staircase and having to climb a wall to get where I was going.

I’ve also had MANY dreams where I was back with ex-boyfriends, always with varying negative results. I mean, there’s a reason I’m not with them any more. But it’s SO WEIRD to be constantly dreaming about them. I also dreamed two nights ago that I sang “Phantom of the Opera” while ice skating. I don’t even know.

I have LOTS of breastfeeding dreams. It’s probably why I leak all night long. šŸ˜› It always feels so real and amazing and perfect. I hope it goes that well in real life.

I also just realized today is the anniversary of my first due date. If that pregnancy had stuck, I’d have a one-year-old. As hard as it’s been, I believe I ended up where I was meant to. RIP my little angel baby.

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