Sleep Deprived

I have come to the unfortunate conclusion that achieving a good night sleep is something which will occur only in my memories. I have traded my insomnia for discomfort. As soon as the discomfort is resolved, I'll face a new obstacle who will demand to be fed, changed and entertained at the most inopportune hours. 

On the positive side, I no longer wake up because my mind is stirring with overwhelming anxiety. Instead, I am awakened by my bladder. Most pregnant women can just waddle out of bed in a quasi-slumber state and use the restroom, returning to their warm covers and comfortable mattress with ease. I have to put on my liner, which is shockingly cold, and don my leg before walking to the bathroom. By the time I make sure that everything is safe and secure, I am wide awake.

Knowing that I will be fully awake when I finally commit to emptying my bladder, I try to put it off as long as possible. I toss and turn, trying to find a position which helps to minimize the urge. Sometimes it works, but most of the time the movement only results in increasing the urgency. I inevitably end up surrendering and begin the process for wearing my leg. I estimate that I habitually waste 20-30 minutes lamenting and debating the need to get up. 

Moments like these, in the middle of the night when I simply want to sleep, I resent being an amputee. I hate that I have to go through putting on my liner and leg simply because I want to walk. In the scheme of things, I realize that this complaint is trivial. But when I'm sleep deprived, it is a frustrating reality.