Nearly 6:00 a.m. I've been up since 10:00 p.m. Yes, that sounds incredibly odd, but there you are. I'm now sleeping in roughly four-hour increments. I fall asleep quick and randomly when my body allows for it, when my stomach isn't sour and acid isn't shooting up my esophagus. Sometimes it's in my bed, other times on the couch when I had no intention of napping.
There is a weird guilt about being up all night. Despite it not being a choice and regardless of the fact I'm just doing what I can to rest and keep going, it makes me feel immature somehow, as if I'm unemployed and spending my nights watching infomercials.
I am really looking forward to having my body back. My sleep is not likely to improve while caring for an infant, but not having heartburn ruining my every day and all my rest, I think it'll be a welcome relief to just have my baby already. It'll be a joy to hold and interact with the reason I'm doing all this for.
The Dude and I spent New Year's eve at the McPal house. It was right up our alley. Quiet and intimate with friends and food. It was our last year being childless. Next New Years will not likely see us going out. We don't go out too much now, being homebodies, but what going out we do will soon be significantly curbed.
I shaved my legs for the first time in months yesterday. What an ordeal. I think I'm just going to quit with that whole thing till it becomes sensible to bother again. There certainly is a temptation in general to just let my whole self go to seed. Broken sleep makes one feel slovenly.