This post is going to be like first world problems, but for pregnant women. Specifically pregnant Sarah problems and I'll call them "preggo probs" (thanks for the name Bijal!) in an effort to seem hip and cool when I'm so not.
I have a set of 24 stairs (I count stairs in my head whenever I use them. This is totally normal.) to go up to get to my desk. Before pregnancy, I'd bounce up these stairs no problem, and be able to carry on a conversation while doing so. Now? I sound like a blown horse by the time I get to the top and yet somehow I can manage to do an entire hour long Zumba class without sounding that way.
No idea how that works but screw stairs. Seriously. I hate them right now.
Mysterious Craving of Mystery
I briefly mentioned this in my four month pregnancy post, but I felt that this needed a more in depth description. The cycle of mysterious craving of mystery goes like this:
Get home from work, starving but not quite ravening. Open fridge, stare at contents. Be generally disgusted by thought of eating any of the refrigerator inhabitants. Open freezer, stare at contents, continue to be disgusted by thought of eating anything. Repeat process with pantry. Give up, go upstairs and flop dramatically onto the love seat in the office, bemoaning the lack of food in the house. Go through list of dinners that I could make with Eric, proclaiming I want none of them. Wander back downstairs 20 minutes later, find something marginally palatable but generally unsatisfying.
My pregnancy research indicates that sleeping on your left side is best for the baby because it maximizes blood flow to the Peanut. Great. Okay. From personal experience, I know that I hate sleeping on my side and especially my left side. (Very) Early on, I purchased a Snoogle Mini from Amazon to help with hip alignment. It's pretty snuggly and it fits me fairly well. It's not making me overheat yet, but that might change the more pregnant I get.
Despite all that, sometimes I just can't get comfortable on my left side and so I have to flip over in bed. Normally this is not a big to do. With a pregnancy pillow? It's on par with a Broadway production. First one must extricate the hooked pillow part from between ones thighs, then decide whether to go over the body or under the body with the whole pillow. I have found that neither method stops me from puffing up the covers to the dismay of my bed companion. I only anticipate this becoming even more difficult. I may have to just be rolled over by said bed companion.