Motherhood

I got called a manzanita today. Lol.

I was wearing a bright red top, and paired with my 9-month belly I really do resemble the devil's fruit.

Anyway, we have a chunky vintage armoire and some of my clothes are in the bottom drawer. I usually sit on the edge of the bed to open the drawer to choose a shirt.

A few weeks ago, I bent down, or tried to, since I can't really hinge my body anymore, and I ended up hitting my head on the iron handles above.

And I just wept.

Like, that moment was so frustrating not from the pain but the general pile of emotions that came from failing to perform a simple routine, one that I’d been doing for 3 years.

Routines, during pregnancy, aren't immediately broken like say, your morning routine the first day of vacation. Instead, it's a slow, slow burn of small shifts that build up until one day it takes five minutes and a head injury to find a shirt.

It's a drag of never ending adjustments that compound into a new way of working. I guess the word of the day is simply: adaptation.