Mike and I operate during the day with reserved excitement. We prepare as much as possible for his parents' stay with D. We make sure to keep things clean, have their bed ready, towels out. Mike takes D to his gym class in the morning and after cleaning (again), I rest. It is really hitting us--this baby is coming not just "any day", but he could be coming today.
|Now if you see me turn to the side...|
I do wake up frequently and feel the cramping of a contraction. But I fall back asleep each time, and soon, the sun is lighting up the bedroom. It's morning. And the baby hasn't come.
Oddly enough, the painful contractions have lessened significantly on Sunday. There are still things telling my body that the time is near, but I am a bit less uncomfortable. We attend church, D enjoys his class, and the church throws us a lovely coffee hour in honor of the baby-to-come. I'm glad that we are able to make this special morning.
So despite my body's apparent readiness, it's now Tuesday night--38 weeks, 6 days pregnant, and I'm a bit uncertain if I can read my body's signs now. I truly believed I'd go into labor over the weekend, but since that hasn't happened, the adrenaline has waned, and I feel resigned to the baby's appearing when he's ready. That excitement of "It very likely could be today!" has turned to a more surreal feeling again, making labor and the baby seem a far off idea once again.
I say this, but yet, when I go to bed Monday night, wake up at midnight to go to the bathroom, then again at 1am to go to the bathroom--I feel like I am going to repeat my first labor. With that pregnancy, I woke up at midnight--bathroom, 1am--bathroom, but as soon as I stood up, my water broke. Of course, this time, that doesn't happen, and I resign myself again to accepting this experience for what it is--and that it is not necessarily the same as the first time around.
|Obligatory "whoohoo" mirror shot|
And I appreciate that time. I mean, realistically, there are still always things to do every night, even without an additional long "to do" list. There is still a heap of laundry on my bed, loads of dishes on the counter from dinner, and toys to pick up. I still have to shower, get ready for bed, unwind. And it's almost 10pm as it is. That doesn't leave a lot of relaxation time. On top of that, sitting, standing and walking are all bringing me quite a bit of pain as the baby's head (or something) continues to stab at my cervix. So I'm slow, and there isn't a whole lot I can do at the moment.
Having dinner together as a family, watching D tackle Mike before bed, listening to my toddler's "concert" as he sings into a microphone and plays his guitar, putting together a solar system model and setting up a mini-planitarium, placing his special clover he picked just for me into a tiny tiny vase, talking with Mike leisurely as we lay on the bed in stillness--these are still priceless moments, whether one calls them relaxing or not. Every night when we put our son to bed, I take a mental picture and wonder, "Will this be our last night as a family of 3?"
But none of this is my timing. I leave it to God. I have always said I wanted to make it to 39 weeks pregnant with this baby, as well. The brain and lungs are still growing up until this point, and while the baby would be fine at 38 weeks (or even a bit earlier), if I can make it to that ideal 39, then I am happy. And I'm only a few hours from that goal, so unless this turns into a crazy night, the baby will not be here before 39 weeks.