Weary
I am so tired. Not just tired, but weary. The kind of weariness that feels like it is sapping your entire body, seeping though every inch and filling it with heaviness. Sometimes I feel as if I can't even open my eyes all the way. Yet sleep does not come easily now. Either I cannot sleep because I have so many things to accomplish, or I try and I cannot for some inexplicable reason that I cannot understand at all.
There is, of course, the pregnancy to blame it on. But, these past two weeks have been worse than the earlier ones. And truly, some weeks I felt this way before I was even pregnant. Pregnancy has accentuated it in some way, but when I think about it I believe that I have been weary since the birth of Turtle 15 mos. ago. Not every day, just many days, that now seem to blur together into one big overwhelming mass.
I remember when Turtle was around one month old, my husband's aunt asked me how I was feeling. "Good, just tired," I replied. Then she said the words that seem to me now as a knell of doom for all my life to come. "You will feel that way every day from here on out. Now that you are a mother that will not ever change." I think about these words now and I feel their verity in my poor tired bones.
Maybe now, weariness is just my cross. It may be one, as Aunt M. predicted, that will haunt my footsteps for a long time. Oh, but doesn't it seem to be so heavy? And to color all the rest of life in its grayish torpor?
There is, of course, the pregnancy to blame it on. But, these past two weeks have been worse than the earlier ones. And truly, some weeks I felt this way before I was even pregnant. Pregnancy has accentuated it in some way, but when I think about it I believe that I have been weary since the birth of Turtle 15 mos. ago. Not every day, just many days, that now seem to blur together into one big overwhelming mass.
I remember when Turtle was around one month old, my husband's aunt asked me how I was feeling. "Good, just tired," I replied. Then she said the words that seem to me now as a knell of doom for all my life to come. "You will feel that way every day from here on out. Now that you are a mother that will not ever change." I think about these words now and I feel their verity in my poor tired bones.
Maybe now, weariness is just my cross. It may be one, as Aunt M. predicted, that will haunt my footsteps for a long time. Oh, but doesn't it seem to be so heavy? And to color all the rest of life in its grayish torpor?
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