She’s born! My premonition was right and my sister has a beautiful new daughter, and I have my first niece. I have yet to meet her, as I’m actually adding this paragraph after writing this at 3:00am. The little peanut was born around 6:15am, I believe. I’m proud of my sister and I look forward to meeting the new little one.
Although better than my sister’s night of contractions and labor, I had the worst night of sleep I’ve had in ages. It was easy to calculate the number of hours I slept last night because it was one. One sole hour, and it wasn’t even a straight hour; I slept nearly forty minutes in one hour and then about twenty much later on. I was eager about the status of my sister’s labor, which seemed to have me really keyed up. Also, my joints were killing—the unfortunate sequela of the bad reaction to foods the day before. This progression of symptoms is typical for me, but knowing it is “normal” does not make it any easier to handle. I took both ibuprofen and Tylenol last night and iced several times; however, any semblance of relief was utterly elusive. I was miserably uncomfortable and the night dragged on in painful loneliness. It’s nights like that one that make me wish I was “better” (physically, mentally, etc.).
This morning, although hard for me to believe, I actually feel worse. Not only are my joints and muscles impossibly sore, but the lack of sleep has rendered me so exhausted that I can hardly function. I feel like I’ve been bumping into things all morning and I have no means of summoning inertia to get moving on anything. I’m just a useless, foggy, woefully uncomfortable lump. My stomach is also still out of whack. It’s fair to say that today will likely be difficult. In fact, I don’t even have the energy to write more.