As of right now I am officially more pregnant than I’ve ever been before.
In the words of my sister:
It’s frustrating when you’re used to going early. You feel overdue before you’re even full-term.
Just so we’re on the same page, full-term is 38 weeks. I’m five days past that. I know I should quit my whining and buck up. Most women in my position have at least another week or two ahead of them.
I’ve spent the past week treating every single day as if it could be D-Day. In order to be ultra-prepared and avoid leaving behind (and coming home to) a messy house, I’ve kept on top of dishes, laundry, and all the other housework (*pantpant*) and prepared nearly everything I possibly can in advance. The hospital bag is packed. The baby clothes are washed and folded. The freezer is stocked. The floor is mopped (but not for long).
The hardest part about the past week hasn’t necessarily been the fact that I’m big and pregnant and uncomfortable – although it does contribute. The hardest part has been living in limbo-land. Every morning I wake up with the thought that at any point during the day, I could be dropping everything at a moment’s notice to head to the hospital. That kind of mindset not only keeps me focused on the timing of an event which I have no control over, but also prevents me from enjoying all the “todays” that I’ve experienced in the past week. All because of an unknown “tomorrow.”
I usually plan my week out in advance, so I know what I want to get done and when I’m going to do it. But since we’re facing a huge, unpredictable variable looming in the near future, I purposely left this past week wide open. I haven’t planned anything beyond the necessities. I haven’t committed to anything or anyone, including myself. I haven’t accomplished a whole lot this week, aside from the daily housework up-keep and child care.
It feels like walking up a down escalator. A lot of energy, no progress.
In other, unrelated news, we recently acquired a gorgeous used Mac laptop for a bargain price. If you recall my previous post about our old dinosaur laptop (which has since seen the garbage can), you’ll know that this means that my motivation to write just skyrocketed. That is, skyrocketed as much as it can when I’m in limbo-land and wary of any new projects or goals. But good heavens, I need something to keep me sane. And that may have to come in the form of a pastime that jeopardizes my daily baby vigilance.