I write this lying on my side, with two pillows between my knees, another pillow wedged under my belly, and three more below my head. My back is tightly wound around an invisible coil. I have reached this point in pregnancy - again.
With Bear, this point came much quicker. I was barely in my fifth month when my right leg stopped working. I dragged myself around like a modern day Quasimodo. Up until yesterday, whenever anyone asked me how I felt I always answered "fantastic" or "great" or "wonderful" or "so much better than last time". Apparently the spirits had been goaded enough.
So now I am reduced to the essentials. Making sure we each have enough clean clothes for at least tomorrow. Making sure Bear has something substantial for dinner. Making her breakfast and lunch for pre-school, making sure she takes a bath. Feeding the dogs. And then I crash. I lie down with my pillows and my books and I resign from the real world until morning.
My husband is left with the lions share of the work. And when added to his crazy work schedule - our house looks, well, lets just say I hope we're not inspected for anything anytime soon.