Sunday, May 23, 2010

Week 39: Insane Baby Waiting

I swear my hospital bag is chuckling at me every time I open the back door to my car. If it could speak I am pretty sure it would ask me why the hell it has to sit in the suffocating heat for weeks while I pretend that I am going to have a baby, when in reality this baby is never coming out. It would have made more sense for me to actually throw away the contents of that bag since none of those clothes will fit me or the baby next year when she is surgically removed from me and comes out a one year old.

Yes, these are the thoughts I am having. I am going insane with waiting.

I am feeling drained by the constant strategy sessions about what I would do if I went into labor right now. Where to take the boys? Who can drive me that doesn't have too nice of a car that if I had to give birth in it I would be financially incapable of taking care of things? That neighbor across the street with the amazing Mercedes is out of the question, despite her many friendly offers. If I don't think I'm going to make it to the hospital in time for an epidural, is it possible for me to just have a flask of whiskey that I can chug on the drive to numb the pain? Do they still knock women out completely anywhere and if so is it near me? Can I get my epidural now? Why did we decide to move 45 minutes from my hospital for the birth of our third child? Not smart.

I can't shave my legs any more. Every night in the shower I painfully (due to my inability to contort my body properly) shave my legs in case I go into labor and have to expose numerous strangers to all of my personal areas. I do realize that my potentially stubbly legs will be drastically overshadowed by other disgusting things involved in giving birth to a baby, but I'm trying to control what I can. But now, I give up and will have to subject several nurses and my doctor to leg stubble, or perhaps long soft hairs if this continues for much longer.

Sleep is very challenging. Every time I move, the baby shifts and it feels like my entire stomach is going to explode with the extreme stretching of my skin. I have zero stretch marks thus far, but I am pretty sure that these will appear in the next week as a result of me doing something wild like turning over in bed. Alex has also developed heightened anxiety sleeping next to me, which makes peaceful sleep even more difficult. He's always been a restless and somewhat neurotic sleeper but now when I move he jumps up in bed with his hands stretched out to me, "What's wrong?!?" Ummm....I'm 39 weeks pregnant, tired and basically angry. You need to stop scaring the shit out of me every time I move, that's what's wrong. Man, I am so cranky.

I spent 30 minutes this morning debating whether a trip to WalMart was worth it if I had to go by myself with the boys. On one hand, the physical strain and emotional stress of a trip to somewhere like WalMart with Aiden and Cole could send me into labor and this whole thing would be over. On the other hand, it sounds inconvenient and painful to have to deal with Aiden, Cole, WalMart and labor together. I'm not into being Natalie Portman in that movie where she delivers her baby in the WalMart. Possibly a trip to Target?

These are my conclusions about my current situation though.

1. God surely is making me this miserable so that inevitably when this baby arrives I will feel such relief that I am no longer pregnant, and no longer have to have a huge event looming over me at all times, that I will be able to have slightly more patience with a newborn....for at least a few days.

2. This is the last time I have to do this. Even if I am never able to have sex again, I will not be pregnant again.

3. One way or another this will be over soon. No one's ever carried a baby for a year or anything, right?

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