Mornings are usually when we lay around in bed and chat about last nights dreams, tell jokes and cuddle under the covers. He squeezes in behind me and I don’t even mind the way his breath smells because it feels so warm and soft against my neck. We bargain to see who will make the bed and who will make the coffee. Sometimes he rubs my back and sometimes I scratch his head. He wraps his strong arms around me very tight and we often fall back into a hazy snooze.
But lately, as soon as I sense my husband is conscious, I begin with the morning catalog of my body aches and changes.
“So last night, I woke up five times to go the bathroom.”
“I had such severe heartburn that I had to sleep sitting up, like the elephant man.”
“I swear Gabe, last night she tried to get out.”
“Even though I sat in front of the television all day yesterday, this morning I feel like I just ran stairs for an hour.”
“Do I have an outie yet? Do you have your contacts in? Is that a stretch mark? ”
“Oh God, I can’t breathe.”
“Don’t touch me.”
“You never touch me anymore. Is it because I’m fat?”
“Am I boring? How come you don’t find me interesting? You know, I am only going to get more boring after the baby arrives.”
“Can you give me more room please?”
“Ugh, you are so warm. It is so warm in here. Can we open a window?”
He sighs, rolls over and hopes I don’t burst into tears. Is this the eighth month, or am I having a nervous breakdown? I don’t know when I decided that all my aches and pains rest squarely upon my husbands shoulders, but lately he seems to be carrying the brunt of my frustrations. Luckily, he seems to understand that this, like most my aches and pains, will pass. And soon, it will all be worth it.
I already know that the only thing better than holding my little girl will be watching my husband rock her little body to sleep in his gentle arms.