Catching my breath. A small update; although there is much to report, I don’t have much in the way of words. We’re moving. The house is amazing and beautiful and our things look happy there. The baby moves and moves and moves, always at night just like ToddlerA when she was in there. The weeks fly by and I have to remind myself that it’s only these weeks that fly by; toward the end every day will last a year.
I feel mostly good, but limited. Limited in breath-the move stirs up dust and mold so much that every day at least once I find myself gasping for air, asking myself “is this bad? Is this wheezing worthy of the inhaler? If I just lay down will it go away?” and because of this new development, the actual packing and moving of things drags out, stalled at naptime until M comes home from work and can haul and pack while I putter around the new house putting away. Today after a particularly bad attack caused by opening a trunk full of fabric pieces to sort, we realized it might be smart to wash all fabrics in the house before we haul them over, and so washing everything we own is on the to-do list now.
Limited in motion, too. I’ve always been a napper, as I’m usually up late working or reading or whatever-a night owl. But lately I find that it’s absolutely necessary some days that I stop moving and lay there, and I’m tired again right after I wake up. I suppose this is part of not getting air? I don’t know. For the most pat, pregnancy itself feels pretty good this time-when I’m up, and can breathe, I’m just me, only rounder.
And now I’m all out of words. Tomorrow I’ll post a few photos of the house, filling up with our lives bit by bit.
Send some laundry over!!!! THAT I can do!!!!!! Seriously!