33 weeks and expectations

Thank goodness for this blog, because I'm totally losing all track of how far along I am. The other day, Ross asked, "you're like, 37 weeks, right?!" Ha! No. But I feel like I should be. I was reading my old posts, and it's nice to see that this time last time, I was very emotional and worn out. Because right now, I'm... tired. Physically and emotionally. (My blog also tells me I even having lots of hip pain, craving vegetables at 33 weeks, and losing hair last time, like I have been this week! So funny.)

I'm up for the day around 4am and it's kind of making me worthless at mom-ming. I'm anxious about entering into the newborn fog when I'm already so tired. So I'm done trying to wean off of the Unisom. When I take half a tablet before bed, and drink a little coffee the next morning, I feel like I can take on the world! Or at least I feel some resemblance to my non-pregnant self. Better living through chemistry, when all else fails, I guess.

This week, I washed and folded tiny little newborn clothes, and I had a moment of gratitude. I was living out of a suitcase and had yet to purchase any baby clothes this time the first go-around, so I'm enjoying these little bursts of nesting. The excitement is slowly starting to counter-balance the anxiety that flared up in the past few weeks, but I think some of the anxiety is just here to stay until the end. So much is about to change.

This week, though, I'm realizing maybe I'm trying too hard to "enjoy these last few weeks." Last summer with Noah was really really sweet, and I find myself trying to re-create it: toddler time at the pool, Wednesday mornings at the farmer's market. I wanted to squeeze some of it in before I felt downright miserable, but I'm slowly starting to realize: I already feel downright miserable, and it's already impossible to re-create last summer.

I also sometimes feel like we need to rush here and there, because I know we will be home-bound for a month or so after baby arrives. Yet, our best summer 2017 memories thus far have been the slowest ones: puttering in the garden as a family after Noah's Sunday afternoon nap. Taking an early morning walk to Starbucks with Noah and chilling and reading books there before walking home. Taking dinner to the pool and meeting Ross there after work where we all swim for an hour before heading home for the bedtime routine.

I'm also realizing that "enjoying every minute of pregnancy" is just an impossible expectation. Yes, it makes me sad to feel like every week that goes by might be the last time I'm x number of weeks pregnant, but what would it look like to "fully soak it up"? I'll tell you. It would look like a week on the beach in Hawaii. Daily prenatal massages. Daily ultrasounds to just watch baby wiggle around and really figure out the various positions she puts herself in. (I can sort of guess sometimes from the outside, but it'd be so fun to master it with ultrasound verification.) It looks like fresh, seasonal food cooked to order for every meal, with zero cleanup on my part. It looks like spending at least an hour a day floating in the water and another hour a day in a lounge chair reading books on pregnancy, birth, and parenting. It looks like morning and evening walks, either having an adult conversation or listening to a good podcast. I looks like an hour of quiet time every morning and a full night's sleep every night. So what I'm saying is, it looks like a fantasy. It's just not possible to spend every minute of the day focused on this incredible thing that's happening.

So... I'm going to try to slow down when I can. Take more belly shots. Stop and feel when she's moving (the movements are already getting less dramatic as baby gets bigger). More pool time with Noah and less running to a bajillion errands and appointments. More prayer throughout the day. Earlier bedtimes. I'm trying to finish up "nesting" tasks by the end of June so that I can spend July in more of a "resting" mode. Here's hoping!