Did you miss me? I haven't blogged in a while. On Friday, Michael and I both took off work to get some things done around the house, and good thing we did. I also had my baby doctor appointment that day, where my doctor, after examining me, said that he felt sure I would go into labor earlier than expected, substantially earlier. Yeah, I know, doctors say that all the time and it often doesn't happen. But for a psycho planner like me, that was chilling news indeed. Due to my medical history, we have decided on a planned C-section, which we have already scheduled. It is in three weeks. Three weeks, I said. But according to my doctor, Sprout didn't get the memo about the schedule. I just knew this kid was going to turn my life upside down. So needless to say, Michael and I spent the weekend doing all the things that we thought we have plenty of time to do. The nursery is now ready, except for a few decorative touches that I'm very little concerned with just now. I have packed my hospital bag, mostly, and I washed the five million baby outfits and blankies that we have gotten. Certainly, there is still stuff to be done, but I've made a list and schedule for those things.
In addition to the frantic activity over the past week, I have just become downright huge. Well maybe not huge, but my belly definitely precedes me when I enter a room. And my feet are swelling. I know it happens to every pregnant woman, but I'm not every pregnant woman, I'm me and I'm just going to whine about it for a minute. Okay. All done. Thanks for indulging me. Thus far, I have been consoling myself with ice cream, which has been surprisingly helpful. It's supposed to hit ninety degrees here tomorrow, which means I should probably stock up on more ice cream.
Thanks to some budget-based restructuring fallout at work, I have a new boss. I think this will work out fine, although the timing certainly could have been better. I had rather hoped just to coast until going on maternity leave, but the new boss has given me a big, research-intensive assignment. And this at a time where I can't manage to wrangle and hold one single thought in my head. So yeah, there's a little stress there too. Just when I get the stress under control, another Braxton-Hicks contraction will hit, sending me into super panic mode again.
So really, I'm sorry for all the whining I'm doing here, but I felt like getting all these fears down and out would be beneficial. We'll see. But make no mistake, I am absolutely thrilled at the prospect of meeting my baby boy. I'm just a little terrified too.
2 comments:
I bet Sprout has to be dragged outta there, kicking and screaming, despite all of your panic.
My mother has gone home. Thank Cheebs; she was driving me nuts.
My email is still acting funny. I'm working on it.
I know if I ever get pregnant I will make the meanest, sweatiest, whiniest, most ill-prepared mother ever. I would need a big refrigerated box to lay in, because I freak out in hot weather already. I'd be running around trying to build and paint a nursery while Gerry chased me around trying to catch the baby as I gave birth to it. And I think a C-section is really the way to go anyway, just because the whole concept of an episiotomy horrifies me.
So, with that said, you don't sound whiny. You sound very well prepared and I think you have every right to be stressed. The anticipation of anything is always the worst part.
And if my boss gave me a big project like that I'd be sure to leave my placenta on her desk as a thank you gift afterwards.
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