June Cleaver was a double D

It's 7:18 a.m. - a most ridiculous time to be awake, much less baking cookies, but that's exactly what I'm contemplating doing - nevermind that we don't have any flour. Or sugar. I've been wide-eyed and on the exhausted side of bushy-tailed since 4 o'clock.
I send a rambling early-morning pregnancy update to a friend on the east coast and include a novella-length complaint at my inability to sleep through the night - she's been awake for hours already what with the whole EST thing and reminds me, mother twice over that she is, that this is something to get used to. Lack of sleep, she sing songs over email, is just a part of life now. Welcome to the club.

I can no longer lie on my stomach, not because my stomach is all that big just yet, but because my breasts are (fabulously) achingly large. I cannot, for the life of me, understand why any woman would *pay* to have breasts this size. They are most definitely in the way. Even on our deep feather bed, one false move and I'm snapped out of dreamland by a dull ache from my newly acquired...appendages as they gasp for breath and claw for space. I'm about to give them nicknames, they are so very present in my life these days...but that just seems kind of strange after all.

It's 7:33 a.m. and no woman this side of 30, with a child outside the womb or within 40 weeks due, feels the least bit sorry for me and so I digress...and think again about baking cookies.

My chemical brain is trying to force me into this motherhood stuff. My emotional brain was already there long ago but wants nothing to do with cooking and baking or dishes and laundry. Even so, I actually prepared three full meals for Hamid yesterday - not to mention three or four cups of tea along the way. Served them to him, no less, as he sat coding on the couch. I never cook and I certainly don't serve. My perplexed husband just looked up at me each time I presented him with a plate of food and smiled - probably afraid to question what I was up to for fear of breaking the spell. Never realizing that he was graciously thanking my chest each and every time.