Holy. Crap. All week, I've been telling everyone who asks that my due date is three weeks away. BUT IT'S JUST TWO WEEKS AWAY! Completely surreal. We had some pictures taken on Memorial Day... our last holiday sans baby! Tomorrow marks the end of our mental list of, "baby absolutely cannot come until..." We had maternity photos taken by my awesome friend Lindsay on Monday, I worked my last day at New Birth Company on Tuesday, we finally had our childbirth class on Wednesday, I started making freezer meals on Thursday, Ross finished a huge work deadline today, and my brother and his wonderful fiance get married tomorrow. Also as of this past week, our kitchen has a floor and the laundry room is next! Kitchen counters and backsplash aren't in yet, but the house finally feels like a HOUSE and not a construction zone! (Have I mentioned that Ross is the hardest worker ever?)
Next week I hope to have time/wherewithal/access to my belongings to pack a hospital bag! I feel like a terrible hypocrite and procrastinator given my line of work and the fact that I'm always encouraging parents to get stuff done sooner rather than later. The NICU nurse in me felt like I was living on the edge (not in a good way) entering 37 weeks without a packed hospital bag or a childbirth class under my belt. Without a crib mattress, let alone a "nursery." Without so many of the little "necessities" and niceties that it seems like most of my friends had finalized and checked off their lists back at 35-36 weeks.
I've spent far too much time being anxious about this kid coming before we're ready. (Although, are you ever ready?!) I'm going to be so fat and happy if I end up going past my due date, and I will of course regret every minute I freaked myself out analyzing early signs of labor!
Most of my pregnancy "buddies" (friends I knew well enough to know they were pregnant before social media did) have now delivered, which blows my mind. Now that I am not working two jobs, I've had a few days to actually sit and think more about how our reality is about to totally change.
Pregnancy hasn't looked like I thought it would, but I don't mean that in a bad way. Seriously, growing up I used to stuff a pillowcase under my shirt and imagine what it would be like to be pregnant. Even in the past few years, I've looked pregnant co-workers, looked at myself, and been completely unable to fathom a pregnant body. In reality, it doesn't feel like an out-of-body experience at all. Sure, I've reached the point where I absolutely cannot bend at the waist, and yeah I get tired an uncomfortable more easily, but I still feel like me. Especially when I'm laying in bed in the morning, I forget anything is different! (Then, of course, baby squeezes my bladder and I try to roll over and I remember my ab muscles are no longer functioning.)
I thought I'd be miserable physically, but the mental aspect is what has really thrown me for a loop. I think first trimester was the worst in terms of irrational freakouts, but that's not to say I've been entirely sane since then. I find myself very possessive of this baby. I keep thinking pregnancy is all about me, and feeling sorry for myself when it's not. I'm starting to realize that it's about to not be about me at all. (And I'm realizing it plenty well on my own without the horror stories that other people tell me about life never being the same, thankyouverymuch.)
I have friends who talk about other people calling their babies "my baby" and the thought of someone else calling MY baby theirs, makes me break out in a cold sweat. I'm not saying it's right, but it is how I feel. Every time I find myself snidely and self-righteously thinking, it's not about you, I have to remind myself, it's not about me either. This kid is about to be his own entity, independent of me. I completely anticipate that the first and hardest (and most enduring) lesson of parenting will be the realization that I'm not in control. And, as with all of those hard lessons, it will be good. But man, I'm not looking forward to that particular challenge.
Physically, we're still chugging along. Sore hips are my only real complaint, as well as a sore lower back on the days I don't wear my support hose (WOW those were a good investment. I'd be miserable without them!) Getting bigger by the day, of course! I have noticed in the past week or so that occasional nausea as well as aversions to coffee, chocolate, and nut butter have crept back in, reminiscent of the first trimester. But I'm still enjoying being pregnant and not ready for it to end yet!
Also, being full term means delivering a full-term sized baby! Gulp. So I
still need to psyche myself up for that. Ross asked what I wanted for a
"push present," and I told him in 100% honesty that a healthy baby is more than enough motivation!