All of a sudden, things seem to be moving along quickly and my mind and emotions are struggling to keep up.
At my weekly OB appointment yesterday, everything looked great. Heart rate is good. Baby is the right position. Head is nice and low. Dr. P ended the visit by saying, “well, I’ll be sending your file downstairs now.” By that, he meant that my file would be waiting in the birthing unit for whenever I show up there. He even went as far as saying, “I’m on call Wednesday and Sunday, by the way.”
Eek! I knew that we were heading into the home stretch, but talk like that is a bit scary.
Not that I’m not ready. The baby’s clothes and blankets are washed. The bassinet is set up. Littleman is firmly ensconced in his big boy room, freeing up the nursery for the new babe. Diapers have been bought. The car seat is ready to be installed. I just need to make it through the rest of this work week and then I’m on maternity leave. It seems that we’re just about as prepared as we can be.
On top of all that, I do not enjoy being pregnant. For me, it is a means to an end. I know there are some ladies out there who love being pregnant. They are either extremely lucky or effing liars! Because being pregnant is hard. My body doesn’t tolerate it well. This pregnancy has been particularly hard, with a new symptom seeming to appear almost every day. The latest is carpal tunnel, which is adding to my already sleepless nights.
But I don’t want to complain about being pregnant. I wanted this more than anything. And, as much as I hate this discomfort, I feel sad when I think about the fact that this is the last time I’ll feel a little human inside of me. We don’t plan to have any more children so I know this is the last time I’ll be pregnant.
So, I guess what I’m saying is that yesterday’s appointment reminded me that I need to enjoy these last days or weeks of being pregnant, regardless of the challenges. I am so excited to welcome my new little man into this world, but I don’t want to rush it. I need to savour every jab in the ribs or head-butt in the bladder. Instead of being annoyed by the insomnia, I will spend my sleepless nights with a hand on my swollen belly, sharing the final quiet moments with my little one inside of me.