to sum it all up

The effectiveness of my ambien is starting to wean off again. This is not a good time to not be able to sleep.
I am now 35 weeks pregnant.That's roughly 35 more days until my baby gets here. Maybe I'll be lucky and he'll come a.s.a.h.p. (as soon as health permits. i just made it up.) I know to some extent I'm only kidding myself when i assume that things will be so much easier after giving birth, and this awful thing called pregnancy is over. ( go hug your mom. she had to do it for you.) I know there will be many many more nights of no sleep, that a rock attached to my abdomen turning into a real live baby with incessant needs is not going to be any less of an inconvenience. But I'd like to think it would be easier for me to handle. It somehow seems so much more logical that the burden of someone else's problems is way less of a burden.
I am so over my own shit. I want to wash my hands of it. Over the migraines, the backaches, the hormonal rages that make my bipolar diagnosis laughable. Over my childhood, my depression, my repression, my illnesses.

Here universe. You can take it all. I am done with it.

However it's nowhere near over. The little gnats and mosquitoes gnaw at my brain and the big things smack me in the face. I cannot stand the noise of electronics plugged in and not being used that make a sound, they remind me of left on amplifiers and guitar equipment.
I wouldn't wish this on anyone. and it is. and i am very very very angry.

sacrifice

as i sit alone in a crowded room of other moms and moms to be i wonder:
how many men would do the same?
backs aching in ugly red plastic
hardly
accomodating a swollen pregnant behind.
doing their best to make small talk through screaming toddlers and language barriers. not one face is scowling,
no complaints, only exasperated laughter.
show me a man who would happily do this alone for
one?, two?, three?
hours without
"bitching like a woman"
go ahead.
i dare you.