Today I am 38 years pregnant. OK, I am really 38 weeks and 3 days, but it honestly feels like 38 years. I just don’t want to do anything, and the really unfortunate part of that is that I have SO much to do. My house really needs a thorough cleaning, I still haven’t packed my hospital bag, I have not installed the car seat base, I haven’t washed all the baby gear…I’m not at all prepared for this baby, who should be coming in the next two weeks at some point (Please God, don’t make me wait longer than two weeks.) yet all I want is for him to Come. Out. Now. My back hurts, I can’t sleep, my legs are restless, I’m peeing roughly every forty-five seconds and the constant crotch jabs are killing me. I told Mike that I thought the baby had somehow smuggled a knife into my womb and was attempting to stab his way out of me last night. Mike looked amused and a little scared at the same time. I’m temperamental and emotional, yet too beaten down to react to even one more comment about my size.
I give up, insensitive assholes of the world! Yes, as a matter of fact, I am having triplets. I absolutely am huge. I am not at all sure this baby won’t be 12 pounds. Yes, yes, baby is fully cooked. I probably will explode, pop, drop, hip-hop and skippity-bee-bop this baby out onto your shoes at any moment. Whatever! I’m giving up on excuses or polite laughter, I’m just going to silently nod in agreement.
Truman is concerned about me. He gets stressed out and upset when I leave his sight and worriedly rubs my tummy every chance he gets. He snuggles and cuddles me much more often lately, and I feel like I’m devouring the last few minutes we’ll have together “just us” before everything changes forever. Last night I ran into CVS and he stayed in the car with Daddy. He screamed, “Mama! Baby!” the entire time I was in the store. This both melts my heart and makes me die inside from fear of traumatizing him while I’m in the hospital away from him for a few days. I’ve never been away from him overnight before.
I feel crazy for being so conflicted. I need more time. Yet, I need this baby to be here already. Sigh…thankfully, it isn’t in my hands. He will come when he comes, and I will deal with it no matter what. I’m pretty sure a baby’s arrival is exciting whether or not the bouncy seat cover has been washed yet.