Long Days and Short Nights--An Ode to the Third Trimester

Okay, not really an ode.  More of a rant.  Or a plea for sympathy.  Or something like that.

I almost wrote this post at 1:30 this morning when, yet again, I woke up from my first couple hours of perfect sleep to a seemingly interminable period of tossing and turning.  It’s probably a good thing that I didn’t—it would have been really whiny instead of just kinda-sorta whiny.  And I’m several sips into the best latte I’ve ever had, so that will help considerably as well.

Why is the second trimester the shortest trimester?  I know that they’re technically all equal in length, but I sure feel like I got gypped on the second trimester this time around.  First trimester tiredness and appetite issues lingered on and on past 13 weeks, and third trimester inability to sleep and general beached whaleness kicked in several weeks before it was actually time (my vocabulary skills have also clearly gone downhill—but I dare you to tell a sleep-deprived pregnant woman that whaleness is not actually a word).

I keep telling myself I shouldn’t complain—pregnancy could be so much harder.  (Does “it could be worse” ever actually work to make you feel better?  Yeah, me neither.)  I’m not high risk for anything, I don’t have gestational diabetes (thank you, disgusting glucose drink), I’m only borderline anemic, I don’t have any diet restrictions (other than, of course, restricting my two surest means to continued sanity: caffeine and alcohol).  I just… can’t get comfortable.  Or sleep.  Or see my toes (only a slight exaggeration).  All normal stuff.  All indications that this crazy active little boy is doing exactly what he is supposed to be doing and stealing my hemoglobin and bladder space as he prepares to begin a life-long attempt to one-up his brother by starting out bigger and even busier than Michael did.

So why do I complain?  Why is lack of sleep the one thing that I just can’t seem to offer up and accept at all graciously?

Maybe it’s because we’ve only had a couple months of consistently good sleep in the past two years and I just can’t stand it that I’m awake in the middle of the night even when M is sleeping peacefully.  Maybe it’s because I’m fully aware of the potential sleepocalypse waiting to descend on us in November, despite our prayers for a good sleeper literally since that first positive pregnancy test.  Maybe it's because I’m really just not that holy.  Probably all of the above.  But I hate not sleeping, and I hate how I feel in the morning when I haven’t slept well, and I hate going to bed knowing that I’m probably not going to sleep well.

But of course I can always nap (in theory, that is—assuming M is also napping, or Alex is home to chase the non-napping M).  At any point in the day I feel like I could easily and quickly fall asleep, and in fact I’ve recently taken naps starting as early as 11am and as late as 5pm.  If left undisturbed I easily nap for two hours… so why can’t I even stay asleep for two hours at a time at night?!

So tell me, pretty pretty please: how do you get comfortable and sleep when you’re having trouble sleeping, pregnant or not?