Ugh

Ugh.

Don't really know how to describe it other than "Ugh".

Tired, uncomfortable, occasionally in pain... and, yeah, annoyed and impatient, too! (Oh, hi, my dear husband!)

It's the sort of a feeling I have heard many women describe before, but one I haven't had the "privilege" of experiencing before. With The Kid I never got to that part - by now we'd had him out for over a week already and I never went into that pre-labour part, the waters just broke - but now, I guess, I am lucky enough to join the generations of women who have stood by the sink in the morning, thinking, "Ugh," and have then wondered, how much more of this stuff? And if there's much more, okay, I can handle that, but is this stuff at least achieving anything? Is it, you know, opening up what needs to be opened? Priming, or however they politely refer to it?

Ugh.

If this were some other, non-descript part of my life, I'd have just popped a Paracetamol by now and be done with it, but instead, I am doing this... breathe in, breathe out thing. Breathe in, breathe out.

And if my husband asks me one more time how I'm feeling, I swear, I am going to TRY to be polite, but that's about as much as I can promise, because, really? Do I really look like I'm in a mood for talking right now?

Ugh.

Blessed times.

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