Usually. But not lately.

If you know me at all, you know this is is a very, very sad thing.

I am a Sleeper. I love to sleep. I sleep deeply, intensely, and happily. I nap, I doze, I sleep. On a vacation with my dad at the age of 7, I once slept 15 hours straight,  just because I could (and because the motion of the Greyhound bus made me all sleepy and happy).

Pregnancy has completely fucked up my sleep.

It started with the dreams. Pretty much since the day I got pregnant, I’ve had these incredibly intense dreams all night, every night. They’re not all bad dreams–some have been downright nice. But they’re all the kind that are so intense and so vivid that I wake up feeling like I haven’t slept at all…like I just spent the night watching (boring, for the most part) movies.

They’ve started getting worse, though. The absolute worst, so far, was the one on Saturday, where I had to try to drown a kitten. The kitten was, to the best of my knowledge, rabid. But that didn’t change the fact that–drowning a kitten? That’s one awful dream. (The next night I dreamed I stabbed  my brother in the stomach, but even that was much more tolerable on the psyche than the kitten dream.)

No dreams about the baby, yet–well, a couple random ones, but nothing much. I can just imagine what a riot *those* are going to be.

And the waking up all night. And the not being able to fall asleep. And the sore hips. And the trying to force myself to sleep on my sides. All in all, my sleep sucks now.

Which is cruel, really, because in 4 and a half months, I may not be sleeping at all.

I’m chalking this up to the “joys” of pregnancy. This is all cementing my decision that I will not be doing this again. I am thrilled about the plan to adopt baby #2.