Monday, May 17, 2010

Week 38: Baby Waiting

It could be any day now....and that's driving me nuts. I am officially uncomfortable, cranky and ready to get this child out of me. I feel like every moment is my last before I will have to drop everything, including my 2 and 4 year olds and rush to the hospital in an effort to get there in time to have an epidural. Must make it in time for the epidural!

Everyone says that I should be relaxing and enjoying the last few days before the baby arrives. These people are clearly not 38 weeks pregnant with their third child. These are the things I find myself doing and thinking:

I really want a big glass of red wine and/or a delicious margarita on the rocks without feeling guilty or genuine fear about my unborn child's health...primarily because a special needs child due to alcohol consumption would be way too much for me to handle since I can barely keep it together with my allegedly "normal" children now.

I wish my stomach weren't so huge that I have difficulty doing pretty much everything. Walking, sleeping, eating, and basically anything else, other than sitting in a carefully orchestrated position on the bed or couch, surrounded by mass quantities of pillows, is extremely challenging. Even wiping is becoming an annoyance and to me that's just unacceptable. What do extremely obese people do to maintain hygiene? This is tricky and potentially disgusting.

Why doesn't my husband feel more sympathy and gratitude for my discomfort? I need a lot of positive reinforcement that I am an amazing person for doing this a third time and not completely freaking out on anyone....especially from the person that got to have sex, maintain his normal life and body and then gets to just get a new, potentially very cute child. Shouldn't I be receiving some sort of daily speech or trophy about my awesomeness? Maybe he's working on a really long letter detailing this? Perhaps he is having a bust constructed to display in our front yard with a description of the things I have had to endure to bear his children?

How can so many strangers feel ok telling me I look huge? Also, who is lying to me...because I get a lot of, "you look so cute comments." Am I freakishly large, or cute. No one is both.

Did my water just break or am I starting to pee my pants again? Of course, just pee. Thank goodness for Poise protection pads and a new found talent to find a restroom in any public location.

Why do people, including individuals I don't know at all at the grocery store, feel it is ok to ask me if I have lost my mucous plug? This is not only personal, very disgusting, information about my cervix, but weird that anyone other than my doctor cares. How boring is your life if you are asking the pregnant woman in the checkout line about the mucous lining keeping her baby in her body? Ask me when I'm due, ask me what I'm having and then read a People magazine until it is your turn to pay for her produce like a normal person.

What will it be like to sleep on my stomach again? To shave my legs without pulling a muscle or skipping large portions of my leg entirely? To eat an adult portioned meal and not feel like I am going to die from the immense stomach pressure.

Will my 2 year old recognize me without this cumbersome bulge in my belly? I'm pretty sure he doesn't even remember having a Mom that can move or let him sit on her lap. Has he been scarred during this time that he got a raw deal when everyone else's Mommy can play with them, pick them up and not pee their pants....and his Mommy can't do any of those things.

How the hell am I going to fill a summer with no scheduled activities, a 4 year old, a 2 year old and a newborn? Oh and no sleep. I'm scared for me, my children and for my husband.

So, I know I should be cuddling with my boys and cherishing this final time when it is just them, particularly my soon-to-be middle child instead of baby, but I really am just ready to move past the pregnancy and get on with the newborn. And yes, I do know it's easier with them in me rather than outside of me, but I'm ready for a new kind of difficult that involves me being able to move.

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