The point is I have to pee. I have to pee, all of the time. All. The. Time. Right now as a matter of fact. I can go pee, pick up Madison from school (10 seconds away), pee at her school, go home and have to pee again. I see more of the bathroom in any given day than any other room in my house or office.
This of course carries on in to the night. Please picture this with me. Eyes shoot open, groan, roll over to the edge of the bed (this takes about an hour), fling myself into a sitting position (I'm certain that this is how the baby will arrive, I will be flinging myself up and the kid is going to shoot out like a cannon, I will still have to pee), signal the workers to bring the crane over to hoist me out of bed, stumble in the dark to the bathroom, break a toe, get into the bathroom, pee, don't bother flushing I'll be back in an hour, catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror and let out a shriek because I look like a lunatic (my hair is jumbled into a crazy mess, my tshirt is above my belly, sweatpants are sagging, dried drool, red eyes), stumble back to the bed, break another toe, lay down, stare at clock, repeat at 12, 2, 4, and 6am.
No, I do not drink a gallon of water right before bed. I'm convinced that when I'm asleep my husband hooks me up to a saline drip. You know, because it's funny.