|My 1st ever bump shot. Just for you my last but not least.|
Yesterday I reached 20 weeks. Halfway to being star-shaped. I meant to write something yesterday but, as always at the moment, I got caught up doing other things. It was the end of a long week. We've had uncle Ben and Tonton Benoît staying, we've had the gastro, we've had school stuff, we've had a warning from the bank about the unofficial overdraft on our overdraft and we've had the car break down. We've had... enough.
I'm a bit wiped. And here I am halfway through my third pregnancy and feeling, I can't quite find the right word... disassociated... from it all. During my first two pregnancies, pregnancy really defined who I was, but this time, it's almost like it's all going on without me really thinking about it. I can't feel any movement, we can't find any names we like, I can't imagine my youngest child at all. In fact, typing "my youngest child" just now, is about as close as I've come to feeling a connection. I'm hoping this is normal.
I think maybe tiredness plus Januaryness is just leaving me blue. We're feeling very anchored in Béziers and in the domestic at the moment. We're seeing more and more of the friends we've made, I've been getting more and more involved in school life, I do a lot of reading, I do a lot of baking. And this is good. And bad. Sometimes what I perceive as the smallness of my life is reassuring, and sometimes it makes me want to run screaming for the hills.
Next weekend I am off to Paris (my Christmas present from Fanf) all on my toute seule, to see me old mucker Michaela. There will be concerts, and restaurants and cinema and even, with a bit of luck, a long-awaited trip down the Parisian sewers. None of which is really going to put me in the mood to consider a third descent into newborn sleep deprivation hell. But hopefully, a bit of the wide world will refresh the parts that Béziers cannot reach and I'll return to embrace the life I've chosen and the new adventures ahead.