It's 2:22 a.m. in Harlem. That's not true. It's 3:08 a.m. When I had the idea to write this blog, it was 2:22 a.m. I've been up since 1:35 a.m. I can't sleep.
There aren't any sirens blazing. Although there are two cops who have stopped someone downstairs, which explains the flashing lights in my building.
There aren't any radios blasting.
There aren't any couples fighting.
There aren't any bums screaming.
There aren't any low lives rapping at the top of their lungs and interrupting my sleep.
Those are the things that usually wake me up at night.
No, tonight, I'm just pregnant. And after I got up to go to the bathroom for the second time tonight, dehydrated as all hell because I can't actually drink water in my sleep, I couldn't go back to sleep.
Harlem is the quietest that I've ever heard it and I can't sleep.
This will hurt in the morning, when I have to get up and go to work. When I'll be more nauseated than usual because I didn't get a full night's sleep. It will hurt at noon when I'm at work and need to take a nap and can't. It will hurt at 3 p.m. when I'm at work and need to go home, but can't. It will hurt at 6 p.m. when I have to announce that I'm pregnant on a crowded NYC subway to get a seat. It will hurt even worse at 7 p.m. when I get home and inevitably puke everything I ate that day because I couldn't get to sleep the night before.
It seems like having a baby is like Men In Black. You see their little smiling faces and forget about all of this. I've seen it happen. Friends who have complained in confidence to me for 9 months on end about how hard pregnancy is will have toddlers and tell our friends who have never been pregnant that it's not that bad.
I hope with twins I get a double MIB erasure because this process is miserable. I don't want to remember it. I don't want to think about it ever again.
Everyone always says "sleep now because when the babies come, you won't get any rest." I just want to punch people in their faces when they give me advice like that. How could they not remember that pregnant nights are sleepless too.
Welp, Quiet time in Harlem is over. I just heard a bum screaming about nothing. Maybe I'll be able to get some rest now.