So tired.

A friend (also 30 some weeks pregnant) asked me today how I am feeling. Am I feeling big? Etc. And, I had to answer her honestly. I feel that drained sort of feeling a person can get from a crash diet, not a pregnancy. I feel like my whole body is wilting, even though I am 35 plus weeks pregnant. I attribute it partly to my smaller weight gain (just under 30 lbs when my usual has been up around 50), but moreso to all we have going on. I guess in part it is being pregnant and chasing Eleanor. Also, anyone who has been this pregnant at the holidays will likely confirm it is exhausting. But, I feel absolutely drained - like the nutrients have just been leached from my bones. I don't even feel pregnant. I just feel exhausted; I even feel small. I know I am not, but boy do I feel it. It's like I don't even have time to take a deep breath.

Yesterday was my birthday, and I didn't have the energy to care. (Although, I certainly got a great surge of joy from every phone call or message - thank you!) I think, with the anxiety of being this pregnant, Eleanor's facial trauma, the emotional energy of everything that came along with it, being flat broke, having more doctor's appointments than there are days in the week, and the upcoming holidays and other engagements, it is just too much.

But, the upsides? Each day, we pray for Baby J.'s safe arrival. When I look at it objectively, I do like the holidays. The doctor's appointments will subside. I know all of that. It just only makes it a little better when I am this pregnant and shuttling to doctor's appointments every day that are an hour away.

And, even though it may not have gotten adequate blog coverage, this stuff with Eleanor has been so draining on my heart. First, there is the inherent reminder of her mortality when she was injured in our own home. That was really hard to stomach. Also, her beautiful little face being so scarred is really hard to deal with. And, today, she had to be straight jacketed again, be injected in the face with anesthetic, and have her deepest wound reopened, scraped out, and packed with gauze. Seeing your baby's little screaming face sticking out of the top of a tight white sheet while she is scraped and bled is just too much, even when you aren't 35 weeks pregnant and doing it so far twice a week. We go back to the wound care center Christmas Eve for another "treatment." We can just hope this helps.

So, tomorrow, we have an OB appointment, and Friday I have to give blood. Then, we get a weekend - my gracious, I need a weekend.