This week has been a series of reality checks for me and some of them I am not happy about. As of today, I am 28 weeks pregnant, which has made me realise that I will have a brand-new bundle of person-ness within the next three months (earlier, if the midwife is to be believed.) This is fairly mind blowing in itself, as for most of the pregnancy I’ve been going round with a “Lalalala, baby clothes, moving, children’s books!” kind of state of mind. Complete denial about how this baby is arriving in the world and what that arrival implies for my future.
The thing that’s really stumped me today, though, is that I am just so exhausted. This is not a state I am keen on, really. Usually, I go about my business at the speed of the White Rabbit in Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland, never pausing for breath as I rapidly move myself from one situation to the next (although I am rarely late!) For the last two weeks, I have been dashing about, seeing people, running errands and so on. And it has utterly knackered me.
Today, I have had to cancel plans and force myself to take it easy. It seems like two weeks of solid busyness has finally caught up with me. I am not good at relaxing at all and my brain is firing off a list of things I have to do before a viewing of the flat takes place later (I had hoped to not be in, but that’s not going to happen- I can barely walk to the shop at the end of my road without huffing and puffing.)
I need to admit to myself that I need to slow right down and to relax. How I am going to do this, I’m not sure. Maybe a bit of crochet and Mad Men? Incessant tweeting? Reading all the Hunger Games novels? I don’t know. All I do know is that I am going to have to force myself to switch off for a few days and I don’t think that it is going to be very easy.