I've got about three weeks left to go with this pregnancy, and this is such a weird time to be at, I think. Because part of me feels like it is so close. Three weeks out of nine months is practically nothing! I'm nearly there! And just before I can begin rejoicing at how close I am, I immediately realize how many things I still need to do before I'm ready for this little guy to come and I start panicking: I still need to put all my birth supplies in one place! Finish putting away the baby clothes! Get Ryder's clothes out of the baby's closet! Wash the carrier and install the base! Finish re-reading all my favorite birth books and force Craig to read them, too! Pick a middle name for this guy! Do a practice drive to the hospital so I know how to find it if I end up having to transfer!
See? Panic. Panic-- when do I have time to do all that when all I really want to do is nap all day?
But when I'm not panicking, I'm wandering around trying to live my life and keep up with the kids and the house work, having more Braxton-Hicks contractions than I ever would have thought possible, wishing I didn't have to wear any of my clothes because none of them seem to fit me any more (seriously-- every time I get dressed for church, I end up looking for an ad for why you should never ever ever ever EVER get pregnant. That's how big and awkward I am now), and wondering how in the world I can possibly survive another day being this huge? Walking to pick up Bentley from school yesterday brought on at least 5 contractions (it's not that long of a walk, people!), where I had to slow down to a near stop and lean on the stroller, and I kept worrying to myself that pretty soon I'd have to just give up and tell Craig he was on Bentley duty because I just can't handle walking that far and pushing a stroller any more.
And then I have to remind myself that there's only three more weeks to go. Quit worrying so much-- you're nearly there.
Which brings me back to the to-do list... And the wave of panic comes crashing down around me.
Honestly, if I weren't so dang excited to meet this little guy, I'd probably be downright miserable! But as it is, as soon as I sit down to fold some more baby clothes, I mostly just get all happy and mushy-- he's going to be so tiny! He's going to be so cute! I wonder if he'll have any hair, and if it will be dark like Bentley's was or if we'll have another boy with the tiniest blonde fuzz like Ryder had...
Amazing how you can be so happy and so miserable all at the same time, isn't it?
1 comment:
The nice thing is that whatever doesn't get done will sort out just fine when the time comes. It will be so fun to meet the new little one. Talking about contractions reminded me of all the awkward times I had with them (while square dancing, while driving stick shift, etc.)!
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