I meant to post yesterday, but it was kind of a crazy day. By the time I got the kids in bed and sat down to watch what Mr. Darcy calls “my stories”, I was done. And I won’t lie, I thought I might be going into labor and so I wanted to get some rest while I could. (Just another false alarm.)
I have decided what the worst thing about the last few weeks of pregnancy is. The waiting. If I knew for sure the date and time I would have this baby, I wouldn’t get so obsessed about it. But, every day you wake up and think, “Today??” and it is not today. With every contraction you wonder, “Is it starting?” just to have the contractions disappear in a few hours. It is maddening. If I knew I would have a baby on April 26th at 9:30 pm, I would just relax and ignore all the little twinges and pains leading up to that day.
Same for labor, you know? If it is 8:30 pm on April 26th and I feel like I’m going to die, but I know that the baby will be born at 9:30, I could deal with the pain better. But, when you have no idea how much longer you are going to be in misery, you start begging for drugs or for someone to kill you.
So… yesterday. I got a pregnancy massage and it was amaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaazing. If you are pregnant, get thee to a masseuse. If you aren’t pregnant, get pregnant and then go get a massage. Seriously, I haven’t felt that good in months. And I was surprised (and relieved) that my Octomom-sized belly still fit through the cut out on the massage table.
After my massage, I had an appointment with my midwife. Everything still looks great. The baby is even lower this week, which I could have told you because with every step it feels like she is going to slip right out onto the floor. And my midwife asked, “How big were your other babies?”, so I rattled off their birth weights (8 lbs 12 oz, 9 lbs 4 oz, 8 lbs 4 oz, 8 lbs 9 oz) and then asked, “Why? Is she big?” She said, “She is pretty big. I would say she is in the 9 pound range right now.” –Which… If I deliver tonight, well that’s not so scary. But, if I deliver in 3 weeks, Sweet Georgia Brown… She’s going to be a mammoth.
Then I had to take Kitty to a doctor’s appointment because of a bladder infection. Poor kiddo hasn’t been feeling too well lately. It went terribly. A couple weeks ago I had to rush her to the ER during an anaphylactic reaction. That ER visit has left her a bit shell shocked around medical professionals, so she screamed and cried the entire time. She wouldn’t get on the scale, wouldn’t let them take her temperature, wouldn’t let them listen to her heart…
And I am 47 months pregnant and as graceful as an elephant seal trying to hold her down or get her to cooperate. It was the suckiest bunch of suck that ever did suck. The cherry on top of the crap sundae was when three of us had to hold her down to catheterize her and she screamed hysterically, turned purple, and looked like she might stroke out.
During the appointment, I got a call from my mother-in-law telling me that The Boy and Jane weren’t at the bus stop when she got there to pick them up. It took her about a half hour to track them down (the bus dropped them off early and they decided to walk the mile home), and everything ended up fine, but the afternoon left me a bit frazzled. And that is when I start to think, “One more. I’m going to have one more child soon. WHAT AM I THINKING???!”
But, here I am a day later. And my kids are all accounted for, Kitty is on antibiotics and already feeling better, and even though I don’t know when this is all going to end, I am one day closer to holding my mammoth-sized baby girl. And she will be beautiful, even if I need a crane to lift her.