I’ll admit to feeling sorry for myself this week. I think the emotional strain of J being gone for so many days in a row (9 of the last 10) is taking its toll. At home, no task comes with ease – going up and down the stairs to let the dog out multiple times a day, bending over to fill her food/water bowls and schlepping to the kitchen to fix a meal. I’m at the most uncomfortable phase in my pregnancy and no one has been around to take care of me. Poor, poor, pitiful me, I know; but I can’t help how I feel. That, combined with my overall state of being OVER IT has caused a handful crying jags over the past few days. However, this is the last time I can be selfish and insist on some intense TLC before becoming a mom so I also feel slightly justified in my pouting. My parents may be required to increase their length of stay once the baby is born whether they or J have agreed to it or not!
Tomorrow is yet another doctor’s appointment. Last week I was 1cm dilated and my cervix was beginning to thin (TMI? Sorry, this is a pregnancy blog, folks). We’ll see if there has been any change. My doctor did tell me that since this little girl isn’t so little, she would possibly do an ultrasound at this or the next appointment to get a better feel for her size. I would get a kick from seeing just how Rosebud’s crammed into this belly. I attempted to negotiate with her last night: if she would kindly oblige and let us meet her ASAP, she’d have a lot more room to move and stretch as well as be showered with lots of love, adoration and cuddles. That’s a pretty good deal, right?
J will be back tomorrow evening for the long haul so there will be no more reasons to stall. I’m just trying to take things day by day, but the thought of going all the way to my due date or beyond causes me great distress. Between the mounting anticipation and physical discomfort, I don’t know how I will survive with any sanity intact.