There’s this point in late pregnancy where you almost can’t stand it anymore. The wanting. The needing to have your arms filled with the one that is still in your belly GET OUT GET OUT GET OUT. But you don’t really have a choice in when this baby violently pushes its tiny self (except when you’re thinking about head-to-vag ratio, and then babies are NOT TINY, NOT AT ALL) out of you in a burst of wrath fit for a, well, a two-year-old, now that I know what two-year-old wrath is like. And you really want and need this baby right now, even if you are scared sh*tless about having another child in your life, another needy newborn who will suck all your time and don’t you have another kid to love and parent and a business to run and a household to keep O. M. G.
I think that last time, my thoughts ran much more to the “oh holy jeez, what am I going to do with a baby” variety that they overshadowed the want and need for the baby in my womb. Now, not so much. Observe:
Crib fixed: check.
All gender-neutral clothes washed and folded: check.
Car seat clean and ready: check.
Nursery complete: check.
Nursing clothes clean and ready: check.
Hospital bag packed: check.
Diapers cleaned, resized, folded: check.
Bottles, nipples, pump ready to be sterilized last minute before use: check.
Garage remodel finished: check.
BABY IN MY ARMS: …
I’d like to be able to tell you that I feel like it’s going to happen soon, but labor doesn’t work like that. At least in my (one) experience. I didn’t have a days-long buildup to expelling Charles. I felt a bit funny a few times earlier in the day, but didn’t know I was in labor until contractions started around 4pm, and hey, he was out before 10pm. So the inexperienced guys at my office keep asking me if I will be there tomorrow, or Monday, or next week for a meeting, and How Should I Know? should probably just be written on the front of my t-shirt at this point. I do know that the baby has dropped a bit, but sometimes he or she likes to creep back up, so that’s not definitive or anything. I do know that I can’t wear my wedding rings anymore, but that might have more to do with the hot weather than the impending doom of late-onset pre-eclampsia. I do know that I have days when I am so exhausted and achy that it would seem I was mere hours away from going into labor (yesterday), but I also have days like today, in which I feel relatively good and cheery and awake.
The point of this all is that I am mentally and emotionally as prepared as I could get for this child. If only that were enough.
Here’s what 37 weeks, 5 days looks like:
And here’s what Charles looks like, in case you forgot:
sleeping after a long day in the sunshine…
A blur of activity at Jungle Playland
And a few sidenotes:
Today is my mom’s birthday! She is so wonderful, I had kinda hoped I could give her a grandchild for her birthday, but she’ll just have to wait, I guess.
My nephew, Jack, broke his leg. In Sarah and Andy’s position, I would probably welcome prayers (my guess is that they need them more than Jack, who will likely heal quite nicely). Head on over to Landonville to show your support.
My poor intern. So much has been thrown at her in the past few days that I am left feeling very sorry for her and also hoping that she doesn’t end the summer (or even the month of June) by regretting her decision to work for us. If there’s one area of my life that could use more time before baby, it’s work and training her up. She starts fulltime on Monday.