zzzzz.

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Being pregnant with my fourth baby is making me tired.  Introvert tired.  Voldemort in the forests of Albania tired.

I did the math and at the end of this pregnancy I will have been pregnant for three full years. I started this blog to document how surprising pregnancy was.  Then how surprising newborns were.  Then how crazy toddlers are.  Now when my kids shred toilet paper or I catch them riding their toy train around the living room at midnight I think “Sure.  That seems right.”  When I pregnant cry because Joe Jonas used to wear a purity ring or when I pull over to throw up in a McDonalds bathroom- yes.  It all makes sense.

But one thing that never ceases to amaze me is how much more tired I am with each child.  By my calculations Michelle Duggar should have been in a coma about 8 babies ago.  I’m trying to come up with an example of how tired I am, that can accurately convey my exhaustion.  I don’t want to talk to anyone.  Ever.  And I love talking.  Sometimes I think I’m too tired to stand up in the shower so I think about taking a bath but then do neither.  Instead of switching out my regular clothes for my maternity clothes in my dresser I just put a laundry basket next to my dresser to hold my pregnant wares.  I didn’t go to a pumpkin patch this year, I just bought ONE pumpkin from Costco.  (say WHAT?!)  I skipped church two weeks in a row because I physically could not rise up from my bed.  Even thinking of examples of how tired I am are making me tired.  I’m so tired.

I can’t tell if it is because I have three other children or because I’m on the other side of 30 and pregnant and that is just much harder than being pregnant in your 20’s.  I think what I really want you to know is that, sure, I’ve fallen off the face of the earth.  Because I’m seriously so incredibly tired.  But maybe it won’t be forever?  I don’t know.

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