Reflection

Today I am sitting at work, entirely overwhelmed and under productive, waiting on a miracle my boss to return so I can finish up this one pressing item on my urgent "to do" list (not to imply that him returning would be a miracle, rather getting any work done in our current state of software disarray would be a miracle), and rather than move on to one of the many other items I could be working on I find myself thinking of another "to do" list that I've greatly neglected in my recent state of pregnant exhaustion. I know Mr. Bear feels that I constantly talk about the baby, or how not ready we are, or what it will be like, or "ARE YOU SO EXCITED(?!?!?!?!)" but in reality I haven't done any of the things I wanted to do.

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.......

Grind My Bones to Make Your Bread

This past week Mr. Bear and I traveled to New England for a much needed and HIGHLY anticipated vacation. I didn't really have any expectations for our trip so it easily met all of them. Sleeping in until 10 and only feeling a little guilty, overdosing on carbs, dessert every night...the list goes on. Alien loved it too I am sure as she was wiggling up a storm the entire time.

Since I've returned she's taken to waking during the late evening/nights which is VERY UNWELCOME! Hear that baby? I do not care if you distort your body into every shape imaginable all day long. I do not care if when I eat you try to physically reach your hands out of my stomach so you can grab a bite for yourself. I do not even care if you get the hiccups on and off for 30 minutes distracting me from my work. HOWEVER I very much care that you have decided that 11 PM isn't good for sleeping but is very good for wiggling! I thought we had an understanding. You are officially grounded.

So, our week long vacation came to an end much too quickly and we headed home carrying with us a nasty cold. I spent the last 2 days with the sniffles but by the time we got home Stephen had been hit with a much more severe version of the same. He coughed up most of his internal organs and it is taking some time to get them all back in place. In the meantime I've had to hand over my place as pampered princess in order to nurse him back to health. This has been easy enough since he mostly requires a couch, a tv controller, and a reminder to take some medicine but trust me in 2 years when he groans about getting me a drink of water after we've both already gotten into bed (which he probably would never do) I will NOT hesitate to remind him of that time when he was so jealous of all my pregnancy attention that he got sick and ALMOST DIED FROM COUGHING just so he could feel special like me. It certainly wasn't easy for me to watch television while he rested all day Sunday. I can't do this forever you know!!!

I'd post a picture of us from our time together....but we didn't take any. Not even one! Mostly due to the fact that I am fat and hate my face and also due to the fact that Stephen was doing all the picture taking of pretty things like water and buildings. There are a few of me, looking ornery, but I won't post those either because MY FACE IS IN THEM!

We are back to the grind and can't quite figure out how we didn't win the 152 million dollar lottery (we forgot to get tickets doh!!!) so that is our goal for the next year.

♥ have an Alien
♥ win the lottery and NEVER WORK AGAIN!!!!!!!!

6 weeks. 6 weeks. 6 weeks. I'm not nearly prepared enough and I still scratch my head and wonder when all this happened and was I present when it all began? Because it just doesn't feel REAL. My doctor says that it is but I am not so sure. I think the beer just caught up to me.....