My dear friends Deann and Laura, both veteran mothers, told me yesterday at work that "I didn't know tired." They said that to me as I was slumped back in my chair, letting gravity pull me down onto the closest horizontal surfaces for all my tired body parts. That was rght before I went home early to take a nap.
And so to Deann and Laura, I say, FALSE.
I do know tired. I am devoted to tired. I live it. I sleep it.
James calculated last night (after my 4.5 hour nap) that I have been sleeping about 16.5 hours a day since we brought the embryos home. As I recounted how I'd wanted to take a lot of naps the last time I did IVF, James interrupted me.
"How do I say this?" he started. "You seem... tired ALL THE TIME." He pointed out that I'd dragged myself downstairs at 9:00 p.m. when he came home from work, choked down some macaroni and cheese, laid on the couch, and then dragged myself upstairs to throw myself back in bed. The only other thing I'd done in that time was to put a sheet of Saran Wrap loosely over the bowl of mac & cheese (with spoon still embedded in it) and stick the whole thing in the fridge. Usually our rule is that if he cooks, I clean up. The Saran Wrap was a sad little showing of housekeeping.
After he recounted these most recent events, he was forced to conclude, "You're pretty much useless." As he said that, he tried so hard to suppress a giggle that it almost came out of his ears.
Uselessness is not usually a quality that I embrace, but I'll take it this time. I don't have much choice.
I'll write more when my wrists are better able to hold my hands above the keyboard.
To the people who have emailed me, I will email you back soon. I promise. Sometime.
And to my friend Ashley, thank you for the cookies! They have provided vital caloric and emotional sustenance.