But other than that I have been in slow motion. Since the panic packing of the hospital bag, it's like someone planted pregnant-lady kryptonite somewhere in the house. My little hoard of baby books and magazines inform me that tiredness is expected to return in the third trimester. Different things are to blame than in the first three months when my body was busy sustaining the two little fellas while knitting a placenta. The final three months see a return of tiredness because of my ever increasing size.
I suppose I have always been a good sleeper. Give me a blanket and some place comfy and I am off to dreamland. But this tiredness is more insistent and difficult to ignore. Yesterday, I fell asleep sitting straight up on the sofa, waking about 2 hours after I sat down with the intention of just a little rest. Everyday this week I've found myself waking up with a little sleep drool down my cheek, wondering where the time has gone and feeling a like a lazy hippo-person.
Guilt is what I feel, even though rationally I know it's not fair to beat myself up. I am big and tired. But I imagined myself as a whirlwind of productivity while off work. Writing and organising and exercising. Cooking a freezer-full of nutritious meals to keep us going when life gets very busy very soon. Instead I find myself napping. More accurately, constantly napping to the point where I'm tempted to label it hibernation. Tonight I'm staring down a to-do list next to the computer that has remained untouched since Monday. I'd like to rely on the comforting thought that 'there's always tomorrow', but with 37 weeks considered full term for twins, tomorrow's schedule might be fully booked.
On the other hand, my near-hibernation might be allowing this body to contain its cargo for while longer. Good news for growing fat little newborns, but bad news for the to-do list.
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