38 Weeks. Yeah... that.
I realize I didn't really address the "end of pregnancy" part in the previous post. Also, by now (after two kids) it feels like I have to treat everyone to that last pregnancy update entry, after which the excruciatingly long wait begins and I slowly drift into despair.
Mostly my body has given up a long time ago. Months ago, basically. I'm not sure if it was having three pregnancies in a little over five years or just bad luck gene-wise... but I don't have any muscle or skin tone left that is capable of holding up the usual 8lbs+ baby I am blessed with. I bought girdles and a support belt and after outgrowing the girdles in a few weeks I stuck with the elastic belt (which is rapidly losing the elastic part) and at this point is essential for me to be able to walk around at all. Without it, my back hurts and my abs hurt and my ligaments hurt and basically it feels as if the baby is going to fall through the bottom of my belly. A lovely, lovely feeling. I joke about my skin sag, but I have to say I'm really not looking forward to finding out how much loose skin I will end up with. I realize there's nothing I could have done, but oh.. it still sucks. You know what I mean.
Having two kids and being pregnant is a terrible combination. I figure there is no other way to have a third child, but here I am, almost done and I still don't know how it can be done. I am so exhausted and my main goals when I wake up are 1. to make it until bedtime and 2. to do the least damage to my kids in the process. I don't know if I did good on #2, I'm sure my kids will let me know with time. I did always make it until bedtime, but as inevitable as that is, there are different ways to get there and I think most of the time I missed the mark. Not that I had a choice really, but I'd lie down and realize this is 3 hours and 15 jobs too late. The next morning comes hours before I have time to really feel rested...
So this pregnancy in a way went by in a flash, in the background, on the side... but it took a much higher toll on me in every possible way. At this point, at 38 weeks, I am slowing down somewhat (the weight alone will do that to you), but I'm torn whether I should just keep busying myself in order to avoid the inevitable anxiety before birth (both of my kids were born at 41 weeks. 41!) or whether I should pretend there is nothing to do, sit down and beat the kids off of me with a stick. I predict I will be a combination of both: too busy AND anxious without sitting much. I have also gotten myself into more trouble... why, I don't know. I am insane, that's for sure. But you should see my son peeing in the potty, all proud and smart. It's irresistible. The funny thing is... the kids are both the problem and the comfort. A delightful distraction, an incredible pain.
This past week Veronika had her spring break and I was thrilled just because for five days in a row, I did not have to get myself and two kids ready and out the door in the morning before nine o'clock. Maybe that sounds sissy and whiny, but it's so hard to get my stuff together in the morning, when I'm already waking up exhausted. Still, I tried to use the extra time for fun stuff and so we went to shop for a gift for the baby. That was Veronika's idea, so they each got to pick out a rattle and we also bought some white t-shirts for the two of them to decorate and give to the baby. Then we had lunch at the mall and rode the carousel and just had a great time overall. I also bought some flower pots and seeds and Veronika got to plant them and set them out on the porch, a project she is still very excited about.
I realized how little "just fun" stuff we do during the week, but also what life could be like if I wasn't lugging around 50 lbs extra and feeling permanently cranky and out of breath. No real surprise with any of that, but nine months is a long time. To counteract some of my insane ideas of exertion, I hired that cleaning lady again, but this time to clean for me, not some future renter, and she did such a fabulous job, that I'm still in shock. It's hard for my brain to process, those two realities: "sparkly house" and "no effort on my part". How is that possible? How did it happen? It seems to go against the basic rules of life. Or is that the miracle of the exchange of services for money? It could be the latter, but then it feels so divine, it can't just be mere economic parameters...
This is where I run out of topics and post a belly photo:
Click here to see the full set!