Tired

I don't mind reading statuses on facebook that read, "I can't wait to have this baby". I wait on pins and needles along with my sister and sisters-in-law as they await the day when they will get to meet their new baby boy or girl. I understand logically that 40 weeks is a long time to carry a growing life force that kicks and stretches and turns. And I feel for the friend who is a week or two past their due date, feeling bloated and melting in the Arizona sun. But can I just say that I, personally, am tired of NOT being pregnant.
I want to know that my nausea is because of new hormones, my indigestion a cause of eating for two. I want to blame my stretch marks on growing life and my spreading hips on preparation for a new arrival. I want my tears to be justified and my sore breasts to be hinting at things to come. It would be nice to not have to lift heavy items because my safety was at risk, to waddle for a reason other than doing too many leg lifts, to be aware of the food I ate for more reason than the scale.
But more than anything, I am tired of not being pregnant because I am tired of waiting for a sibling for J, for a piece of Dustin and I to join our family, tired of trying, trying and trying again. I am done with moments of being brought to tears because a commercial or a book or a TV show reminds me of what I try not to focus on on a daily basis. Most days are no big deal. But today I am tired of not being pregnant.