Today's the day we hit forty weeks of pregnancy. It's kind of mind blowing to think that I've been pregnant for a full ten months. How the time did fly. I've been lucky, spending most of the time in relative comfort. Now that I've reached the tail end I am finally starting to feel it. My hips and bladder are particularly troubled lately. I wake in the middle of the night in almost too much pain to roll over and make it to the bathroom. My bladder is screaming from the pressure of the baby's head pressing into it, and my hips feel like they are just about ready to rip from their hinges, sending aches all the way down my legs and up my love handles.
Friends, I think I am ready to have this baby – like now. The pain is no picnic, and being on mostly bed rest is kind of mind numbing. Emotionally, I feel like I'm quickly passing from eager to anxious when it comes to finally putting my arms around this little child. I want them out – safe, sound, and before my eyes. Last night I had three nightmares in a row where someone either stole, interfered, or laid claim on my baby, the last of which woke me screaming in bed. I guess my subconcious is taking the brunt of my desperation to get a hold of this kid.
My hormones are also becoming a little disruptive. I spent the better part of Tuesday crying. It started after a stressful phone call with an insurance company, then continued for no particular reason throughout the afternoon. I begged Scott to come home early and help calm me down so that my blood pressure would stop spiking. When he finally did, I became super combative – arguing with him about anything and everything that crossed my mind.
Two days later I'm showering him in kisses and baking him chocolate cream pies. Late pregnancy Mary is awfully mercurial.
There isn't much more for me to nest over either, so my attentions are dangerously singular at the moment. The nursery is pretty much done (you can see it here). The house is mostly clean, and what isn't clean is too much for me to tackle under blood pressure activity restrictions. For example, I would love to scrub my refrigerator within an inch of its life, but I'm resisting the temptation in order to avoid preeclampsia.
Today I'm taking care of the last little things – leaving a note for my Mom to find when we head to the birth center, battling Scott on our post-delivery takeout order, making sure my camera is charged and has the correct lens attached, making a few last blog posts, and sending out a couple of emails that need attention. After that, I'm plum out of things to do.
Here's hoping Babeleo decides to make the plunge sooner rather than later.