I wanted to take some time to connect, which I haven't done because if it doesn't involve connecting myself to the bed, or connecting a fork to my open mouth, I don't have the desire or energy for it. I don't know what I was expecting to connect with but I felt like pre-outside of the womb baby and I should have some special time and that would make some kind of difference. I hope I was wrong because we connect over ice cream (she likes it) but nothing much deeper than that.
I wanted to write. Not sarcastic complaining blogging writing but some serious words. I wanted to let the Alien know what these past 9 months have been like for me. I wanted to write about how scary, but amazing, it was to meet someone, find out you are having a baby with them, fall so in love you can't believe how lucky you are and proceed to gain 60+ pounds in anticipation of her arrival. I wanted to write about how I felt each day; how my back would ache and I would lay in bed with a hot water bottle watching television before dropping into a coma and waking The Bear with my snores, how strange, but reassuring, it was to watch my body morph into a walking Sci-Fi movie expanding farther than I ever thought possible, how I would lay in bed and watch her alien movements crawl across my belly and how I knew it was special because I was the only one who could see (it required too much patience for The Bear to watch), how someday she ought to buy me a closet of shoes because all mine are too small now....and that is a lot of shoes to grow out of.
I wanted to make everything perfect. And instead The Bear's condo is frequently a mess with my unfinished projects, unwashed laundry, disregarded dishes.....it just all became too much. I'm jealous of women who get to spend their working hours focusing on these things instead of sitting at a desk unable to do much else other than bookmark more junk from Etsy than any one person could ever need.
And now....now I have less than 4 weeks until that day the doctor has deemed my "due date" and I can't figure out where the time has gone. We haven't toured the hospital where this Alien is supposed to be born (and I'm sort of grateful because I'm dreading it, don't ask me why) and I haven't packed a bag just in case she makes an early entrance (please no, I don't have enough diapers or any clothes that would fit!). I don't know the number I'm supposed to call when I go into labor and I don't know what exactly we are supposed to do. I suppose I've been hoping for some divine intervention on all of this, but fear not, we tour the hospital tomorrow and I'm sure The Bear will think (hopefully) of any questions we should be asking. Me, I'm just overwhelmed by it all because 3 1/2 weeks isn't a lot when you think about the past 9 months and I am in complete shock.
I hope I remember how to hold a new born. It would be mighty embarrassing if I've forgotten.......