"It's 3AM. I must be lonely."

Except I'm not. I've got a kicking baby in my belly and a sleeping husband just one room over. For some reason, tonight is just not my night and I've decided to write about it, lucky you. Because, let's be honest, what else does one do when they can't sleep—is there anything else to do than lie awake and think about life? Maybe it's just me. Maybe I'm the only one that gets the urge to "think" at my computer.

If you can't place the title of this blog, I give you Matchbox 20:



Anyways.

It's 3AM. And I can't stop thinking about life.

My pregnancy calendar tells me that Baby's due date is in 40 days. Jason's aunt tells me that natural birth is beautiful, and that I'm totally prepared to handle it. I can't believe the first, but I do believe the second. Cindy is a doula and we got the pleasure of spending a few hours with her yesterday morning. She walked us through everything our birthing classes did, but from a more natural standpoint. It was awesome. And in all honesty, it was the icing on my mental prep cake. We women were built to birth babies. I can't help but find that to be amazing, and in some (perhaps you think it's sick) way, I can't help but want to experience it. The pushing, the pain...everything. I'm ready. And I'm also ready to throw it all out the window for some pain meds should the situation really, truly call for it.

I've no need to be a hero.

Cindy is also a massage therapist, God bless her for showing Jason some hands-on labor management techniques. I tried to get him to practice last night, but his 4AM wake-up call trumped my needs. Is getting up early to go watch Michigan play Ohio State in Ann Arbor really more important than your pregnant wife? If it were me, and if it were a Notre Dame game, I would say "yes" to that question. So I let him fall asleep.

Not without stealing the covers, though.
I win.

But, now...

...here I sit.

After some almond butter on a slice of toasted brown rice bread with a few pomegranate seeds on top (try it), I'm contemplating life after Baby. More specifically, my life in the gym after Baby is born. In terms of my employment there, they didn't bat an eyelash at me taking leave for a few weeks. So I'm not worried about that. (Who would be?) But I am "worried" about getting back into some sort of exercise regime. Some sort of pre-baby body.

I worry that this need to exercise will nag at me when it shouldn't.
I worry that I won't have the time to get to the gym when I'm finally ready to get back to the gym.
I worry that the weather will prevent me from getting some sort of physical activity every day.

Obviously I will have other things to worry about, too. But when you're used to working out almost every day, how could you not worry about getting back to it? Exercise is a part of me in a way that sustains me on multiple levels. But a new baby will trump all of that as it becomes one of the single, most important aspects of my life.

These are the things I think about at 3AM when I can't sleep.

I also think about not being able to sleep. How I should be getting my sleep now because in 40 days (give or take), I won't be getting much of any sleep seeing as how I'll be a walking milk-maker with a mega milk consumer in the next room.

Daddy's got diaper duty, that's for sure.

Sleep has never really been an issue for me and it's funny—this is what I just told Cindy in our session with her yesterday. Maybe this is karma biting me in the butt. Maybe this is Baby saying "I heard that, Momma. Get ready, 'cuz I'm comin' soon and I'm gonna need some attention at 3AM!"

Either way, Here I sit. Talking to you.

Thinking about Baby.
Thinking about working out.
Thinking about shopping with my mom.
Thinking about Starbucks.
Thinking about thinking.

Lucky you.
Lucky me.