Sudddenly, I seem to have occasional bursts of energy, days in which I do just fine without a nap, alternated with days in which even sitting is a challenge.
I think it’s my last week of work. It’s a bit stressful to try to finish everything, but the reward of an upcoming leave is so very enticing.
I’m full of plans and things to do. They are all pretty meaningless in the big picture, but that’s OK. I am embracing the small achievements. On good days, I’m quite enthusiastic. Despite the discomforts, I’m healthy, well cared for and have good friends and family. I’m able to indulge in some self-care treats. I’ll soon have the gift of time. I have a lot to be grateful for.
My friend warns me that caring for a little one can be mind-numbing. Yet I’m rushing enthusiastically towards days at home filled with cooking, organizing and errands. I have little desire for large accomplishments. I’m hoping this is a temporary effect of pregnancy and nesting.
This may be the month I meet my daughter. There is a chance it could be early January too. But in either case, it’s getting close. Even other people are now commenting that the date is fairly soon. There are so many fun things I want to do with River once I’m on leave. But I realize that we don’t have all that much time. Hopefully we can fit in a few activities.
My in-laws have agreed to come care for River while I’m in the hospital. We’ll still have to find someone to drop him off with while I’m in labor, but that is much more manageable than trying to shuttle him from place to place over a couple of days. This is a big stress reliever.
My mom is referring to the new baby by its name. She sent cookies and labeled them: To worldmomma and “baby name”. She sent me a family heirloom and asked me to eventually pass it on to “baby name.” This sounds weird to me, given that I still refer to it as “it.”
I’m really hot these days. This makes me glad to be having a baby in winter. At least I’m saving on the heating bill. I can’t imagine how people manage in summer.
I have a serious case of the waddles. I’m more like a moving tank.
I feel like a ticking time bomb that could go off at any moment. Part of me denies it can or will happen. Part of me doesn’t want to think of the pain. Part of me recognizes that any plans made are only tentative. This uncertainty was difficult last time. But it’s even more difficult with another child involved.