Wow. So now I have to acknowledge that I'm at 36 weeks. This baby is no longer an abstract "future" that can be ignored until a later date. My denial ends tonight.
I had been going along quite merrily. Sure, there have been a few rough spots. The three months of morning sickness were not fun. (Let me just say that I can't imagine having it my whole pregnancy. That would be grounds for adoption or only child-dom here.) Then there was the sciatica month. I didn't care for that. But mostly I have have just minor nuisance complaints, typical of pregnancy. Through it all I knew that the payoff was a miracle known as a baby.
However, this past week has brought me to THAT point. You know the one. That one where Mommy is ready for her baby to not be in her belly anymore. Don't get me wrong, I'm still terrified of having two kids and my house isn't ready and there's so much still to be done... But physically the scales have tipped.
My body is breaking down. The ligaments/tendons/muscles/whatever are displeased with the tasks assigned to them. And they are rebelling. It started about a week ago. I was getting up off the floor and made a rather graceful arc back down as I felt a pain in my inner thigh and my leg failed to hold me up. It's probably not serious, just painful. My midwife suspects a pulled muscle due to my "condition." Not pregnancy, Ehlers-Danlos Syndrome. Since then things have been uncomfortable. Groin muscle, round ligaments, uterus, back... all have been uncomfortable. Tonight, or today rather, came the inability to sleep. I woke up in the four-o'clock hour and couldn't fall back to sleep. Heat and my pains kept me up enough to start my brain thinking about all the worries floating around in my head. I laid there long enough to realize that I wasn't going to sleep anytime soon, then I came down here to share with all of you.
Don't you feel special now?
So I am at that fun point where I am at war with myself. I am not ready to let this baby out into the world. I love feeling its wriggly little movements and seeing the bulges when it stretches. I love my round belly that clearly is pregnant. Even if random strangers always ask if I'm having twins. Last time people just thought I was fat, so this is nice. I know that a major life change is right around the corner, and I want these last weeks to savor my life as it is now. My husband, my daughter and me. I want to soak up as much Squiggle as I can before I am forced to put her aside on occasion for Wriggly.
Mentally, I am content to remain pregnant until 42 weeks if need be. Psychologically, I will miss the movement. I don't know if I'll ever be pregnant again. This could be the last time I get to feel another life growing inside of me. And it is a feeling I cherish even when it is, shall we say, more forceful than I'd prefer. It is nothing short of amazing. Last and definitely least, I'd like more time to organize my living space. It is not how I want it and once Wriggly comes I'll make no progress for a long time. So I'd like to make it nice now.
|A sample of mess.|
I resent the physical limitations placed on me right now. The pain and fatigue are keeping me from enjoying these last few weeks. My prayer is that these complaints will go away, or be manageable enough to shove into the background, so that I can enjoy and take advantage of my remaining weeks as a pregnant mother of one, before the world recognizes me as a mother of two.
I apologize for any typos or awkward writing. I'm tired and probably not competent to proofread accurately. Not that I ever am. :-)