18 Weeks Along - It's Too Early To Be Awake

*yawwwwwwwwwn*

Don't ask me why I have been up since 4:30AM.

It's probably a combination of the strange dreams I was having and then having to pee again. I really should try and not drink so much water so close to bed. But I take my prenantal vitamin at night because it's less caustic on my tummy and I always drink about 20-30oz's of water with it.

Anyhow, I am having the strangest dreams. I think part of it is due to some family-type drama going on earlier, and part of it is because I just have really strange dreams. And now that Gareth has returned to the UK again, for what is the final time, I think a huge part of it is that I am so emotionally raw right now that it's manifesting in my dreams. I know he'll be back (once and for all FOR GOOD!) soon enough and life will take on an unreal busy-ness, and I probably won't have time to even dream let alone remember them, but in the meantime, I think this emotional train wreck I've been sensing , is imminent.

Our airport goodbyes have never been easy, but they have been getting easier, until this last one. Just to let you know how bad it was, I didn't even go to the airport. Gareth couldn't handle seeing the emotional mess I was and I probably could not have driven home. I sat out on the front porch and just cried for a long time after he left. Then the baby started to move again and it made it worse...because the last thing he did before he left was lean over and talk to the baby and tell it to take care of mum.

Then if all that wasn't bad enough, the cat came out and decided to join me in howling on the front porch. Gareth spoils the cat rotten. I can't really fault him for that as she's 17 and is...well she's dying. He's very attached to Her Majesty. And when he leaves, she seems to feel it as intensely as I do. She wonders through the house, meowing at the top of her lungs and then heads up stairs to see if I've hidden him somewhere from her. This goes on for a day or two.

I finally went upstairs only to find that Gareth had left the shirt he was wearing, behind. That set off an entirely new set of tears which lasted a lot longer than I'm comfortable admitting. I really should have changed the pillow case I'd been bawling into, but I can't bring myself to do anything right now. There are normally a few tears everytime we come and go across the pond...we've gotten used to it over the last few years. But with my hormones on over-drive, I've turned into a walking emotional fountain, set to go off at the least little provocation. And now that it's been set off, I'm wondering where the "off valve" is.

I probably should just dry up and get back to packing. But just thinking about all that makes me want to not crawl INTO bed, but rather, UNDER the bed and never come out. I feel quite selfish when I know Gareth has a lot to still take care of back in the UK...selling the car and getting the last little odds and ends taken care of. But to be honest, he's been getting ready for this, for a year now. And here I sit, with little notice, trying to pack up almost a year and half's worth of resettling in the US, in less than a month.

I think I am going to go back to bed and wrap myself up in Gareth's shirt and try and go back to sleep. After all, there isn't enough Preperation H in the world to shrink the swollen tissues around my eyes.

But thanks anyways Cosmopolitan and Vogue magazines for the suggestion.