First of all, I just want to say THANK GOD for the Akismet plugin. My spam comments used to consist of wonderful compliments such as “Great post! I’d never thought of it that way before!” and then the spammy part would be the link to their V!@gra page or something. And while I still do get those comments, the Old School Spambots have lately been coming out in force. You know – the ones who paste in three paragraphs of “Jane Eyre” and then 26 links at the bottom? Yeah. Those ones. Akismet catches all of this crap so all I have to do is click “Empty Spam” and that’s the extent of my dealing with it. If you’re running a WP blog and don’t have this plugin, well, I just don’t know what to say to you.
Secondly, I am now considered full term on this pregnancy, which I guess means I could “go” at any time. Watch out, she’s gonna blow! My hospital bag is 90% packed. The things that aren’t in there are the things that I use every day, like deodorant. And sweat pants. I only have three sets of sweat pants; I can’t just take one out of rotation and put it in a bag! I’ve got a few things packed up for Asher, but his packing list is small because the hospital has assured me that they will provide for almost his every need while we are there. The Man’s bag is not packed at all, because I need something to do in the early stages of labor, right? He has a pretty small list as well, so that should take us all of 10 minutes to throw together.
I’ve gotten the bassinet cleaned and set up, all tucked in with sheets and the baby monitor (we have a sound and motion monitor, so there is a sensor pad that has to go under the mattress). The bottom shelf of the bassinet is stocked with a diaper basket, receiving blankets, burp cloths, and pacifiers (which, now that I think of it, still need to be sterilized). His clothes are washed and sitting in a tote in the spare room, along with all of his other stuff.
And, the reason all of his stuff is still in the spare room is because his room is still not done. It’s not our fault. We ordered windows. They took three weeks to arrive, and then they were the wrong size. And not the wrong size, oh we can jimmy it and make it work. These were the wrong size, we need to cut some bricks out of our house. Needless to say, we had to have our supplier order new ones. They will be here in ANOTHER three weeks. After that, The Man and his merry band of helpers can finish the drywall and I can paint, and we can decide what’s going on with the floor, and then maybe we can put the kid in his own room. This is just ONE of the reasons I hope to make it all the way to my due date.
On the personal front, I’m pretty physically uncomfortable. I don’t sleep well. I sleep from about midnight to 3:00 AM, when I get up to use the bathroom. After that, I toss and turn, and catch an hour here and there until around 8:00 AM. Then I get up and lay around the house because I am still tired. My ankles are swollen and so are my hands. I can’t really fit into my shoes. Small things (like getting dressed) cause me to lose my breath. And – this may be TMI, but oh well – my boobs are getting more boobtastic by the day. Before this pregnancy, I wore a B cup. I’m now straining to maintain the integrity of a DD. If I didn’t have this enormous belly to take the focus off, I’d be awfully self-conscious.
Things that I worry about:
- The cats. Isn’t that precious? Some people have to worry about introducing a new baby to actual human siblings who might have not great reactions. I’m worried about ruining the lives of two elderly felines. They sleep for 22 hours a day. I’m not sure what’s going to be “ruined” about that, but you can’t tell my brain anything. It imagines the worst possible scenarios and then takes those scenarios and puts them in the Most Likely To Happen category.
- My ability to deal. Not “will I be a good mother?” or “will I let my child down?” but literally “will I be able to deal with this?” I don’t really worry about being a good mother, mostly because at the early stages ‘being a good mother’ equates to making sure the baby doesn’t starve and is clean and fed. I can be that mother. Right now, I’m more worried that I will not be OK mentally with all of these changes.
- Never sleeping again. I don’t sleep well now. I understand that will not change and will actually get worse once the baby is here. That’s not something I’m looking forward to.
- I won’t be able to breastfeed. I want to. I hope I can. I’m scared I won’t be able to.
OK, here’s a picture of me at 36 weeks. The Man took this one. I’ve been trying to get him used to my camera so I have some chance of having a few pictures of the boy with me in them, too.