39.6 - The end is near...

Tomorrow.  February 20, 2013.  I've been anxiously awaiting this day since June 13, 2012 - since that second pink line appeared as an answer to years of hoping and dreaming and wishing and wanting. 

Baby Girl is going to be here any day.  Probably not tomorrow, but tomorrow feels like the finish line. 

I can't believe we're here.  I have a house full of baby things -  I'm sitting next to a box of a dozen new cloth diapers, with my hypnobabies book in front of me, my arm resting across my swollen belly that shifts and moves every few minutes - I still can't believe this is my life, my reality, that I'm going to be a mom any day now.  Some time within the next 2 weeks, Jimi and I will be parents to a real live baby that is going to sleep in the bassinet that's currently positioned next to our bed. 

I just can't believe this dream is coming true.  I'm so happy, I'm so excited, I'm so scared.

At my appointment yesterday, the nurse asked if I wanted to be checked.  I'd previously said I wasn't going to do that - I know it's no guarantee of anything - but when the option presented itself, I answered with a sheepish "Yeah, kinda".  I wanted to know if there's any progress, if my body is doing anything to get ready to get this baby out of me.  When the midwife announced I was 2.5 - 3 cm, I was over the moon with excitement - my cervix works!  It's doing what it's supposed to do!  Hurray! 

So of course now, I'm horribly impatient and I just want her to show up NOW.  I'm ready.  Well, as ready as I can be, having never done this before and having no real idea of what in the fuck I'm actually in for. 

I'm scared.  I'm afraid of the pain that I'll be in after I come home.  I'm afraid that something may go wrong with all my best-laid plans - for a natural birth, for breastfeeding, for not being a horrible mother.  I'm afraid of the lack of sleep, and the demands of a newborn.  I'm afraid there's something we've not done, that something will come up we're not prepared for.  I'm afraid my hormones will take over and change the person I am.  I'm afraid that I'll be mean to Jimi.  I'm afraid the stress of having a new baby will change US.  I'm afraid my daughter won't be perfect, that something will have been missed, that something will be wrong.  I'm afraid that feeling that last part makes me a horrible person.  I'm afraid of how I'll react if that fear became reality.  I'm afraid of something terrible happening, some freak horrible thing that hurts my daughter. 

I tell myself over and over that these fears are all normal, and nothing to actually worry about, because everything is going to be perfect and fine and nothing will go wrong and she IS perfect and every little thing is gonna be alright so I shouldn't worry about a thing.  It's all going to be wonderful. 

I think it'd be really neat if she was born tomorrow.  Right on time.  Very punctual. 

I just want her to be here.  I'm ready for her.  I'm ready to start the next stage in our journey as a family - a family of three.  Three is a magic number.

38.6 and still going strong.

I'm to the point where people are starting to expect me to give birth any day.  We're near the end, but it doesn't feel like it yet - not to me.  The women in my birth club on babycenter are all having their babies and talking about how they want nothing more than to just get their babies out of them - I don't feel that way yet.  I've enjoyed being pregnant, and I'm not in any hurry for it to be over.  I'm anxious to meet our daughter, of course, but not to the point where I'm wishing desperately to feel those first birthing waves.  I'm uncomfortable - it's getting a little harder every day to get up from a seated position, to get out of bed, to walk across the parking lot to my work meetings, to get out of the car, to bend over to pick something up - but I'm far from the miserable that's described by the women who are at a similar point in their pregnancies.  Maybe I'm just incredibly lucky.  I'm willing to accept that as fact.

We spent a million dollars this past weekend.  Okay, not a million, but it sort of felt like it.  It was a lot.  Stroller, play yard, diaper bag, diaper pail and liners, more cloth diapers, diaper sprayer, a rug for the nursery - all sorts of odds and ends we needed.  I also picked up some new nursing bras and tanks.  I finally feel confident that we have the things we need, that we're ready to bring a baby home.  I still have a bit of laundry to do, and I haven't yet packed my hospital bag, but somehow that doesn't worry me - I feel like we're ready. 

I've checked out mentally at work.  I just have a hard time giving a shit about what's going on there when I'm so consumed by what's going on here, inside my head.  I guess that's to be expected.  It's hard to focus on anything other than baby at this point.  I'm ate up with baby. 

Have I mentioned I'm having my placenta encapsulated?  I'm having my placenta encapsulated, in an effort to avoid postpartum depression, and to help boost my milk supply.  Jimi sort of thinks I'm crazy, but he's agreed to pay half the fee and not make faces about it, so long as I don't mention the details too much.  My Granny suffered from some pretty serious PPD, and Stacy had issues last year after Addy Rose was born - I'd really like to avoid the emotional crazies as much as possible.  If that means eating part of myself, well, bon appetit.  Jimi mentioned the other day how awesome this pregnancy has been for me in terms of my mood and my level of happy - and he's right, I've been on a big fat bouncy cloud of happy for months and months and months.  Mood swings, hormonal rages - none of that has been my pregnancy experience.  He's a little scared of what may happen after delivery - I think that also helped get him on board with the placenta-eating.  Do what you've got to do, ya know? 

I'm guessing baby girl will show up this weekend - I'm saying labor will start Friday night and she'll be here Saturday morning.  This past Sunday, Jimi said I still have 16 more days, putting her arrival at February 25th or so.  I don't think it'll take that long.  We'll see which of us is right.  I'm probably so ridiculously wrong.  But maybe not. 

37.6 - Entering the home stretch

We've reached "full term", and now it's just a matter of when she decides to make her appearance.    Her nursery is nearly complete, she has teeny tiny onesies and socks folded and matched and put away into dresser drawers, we have diapers that will fit her teeny tiny newborn bottom.  I have a pretty good idea of what's going into my hospital bag, but I've not packed it yet; maybe I should get on that, eh?  (I have the important stuff set aside and ready - stool softeners.  Post-birth poo is no joke, from what I hear.) 

We had two baby showers this past weekend - one Friday night thrown by Jimi's co-workers, and another Saturday afternoon hosted by my family.  Both were lovely and netted us some awesome gifts to help welcome our new arrival.  Maggie came down for the family shower and brought the burp cloths she made after the shower she hosted for us a few weeks back - looking through the messages and pictures from our friends made me teary-eyed all over again. 

I feel very loved right now.  I feel like I'm caught up in a net of love and happy and warm and cozy and safe and good.  I've had a life full of happy and love, but I don't remember ever feeling quite so filled to the brim with good things.  It's a great place to be, my world is these days, and knowing it's only going to get better with this baby's arrival is more than I can comprehend. 

I was very disappointed at my midwife appointment yesterday to learn that I've tested positive for Group B Strep.  I'd really hoped to avoid that, and learning that I'm a carrier has bummed me out.  My midwife was very good about explaining it all to me in detail, since I'd not bothered to do any previous research on it (hoping it wouldn't apply to me), and basically this means I've got to get to the hospital within 4 hours of my water breaking or when contractions (pressure waves) are 6-7 minutes apart rather than 3-5 minutes apart so I can have at least two rounds of IV antibiotics before baby girl is born.  I'd hoped to spend most of my early labor at home, but now we'll be heading out quite a bit sooner than I'd planned.  Fortunately, I was reassured that I can still move around and get in the tub, etc. while hooked to the IV, so I won't be strapped to a bed.  It's all going to be fine, just a bit of a change in my gameplan.  Whatever - I'd even take being strapped to a bed if it meant getting my daughter here safely. 

Perhaps it was psychosomatic, but within an hour of leaving the midwife's office, I started to feel sickly.  It got worse as the night progressed, with my throat getting more and more sore each time I woke for my hourly bathroom trip/flip to the other side.  I called my doctor's office before 9 a.m., hoping he'd be able to prescribe something to head off whatever it was trying to take hold of my body.  I'm usually a "wait three days and see" before calling the doctor sort of gal, but being within 2 weeks of my due date was enough catalyst to get my butt in gear immediately this time.  They were able to fit me into a slot that'd been reserved for a patient who'd done a no-show, but when the strep culture came back negative, the doc was sort of stuck on what to do for me.  In the end, I came home with a $50 Tamiflu script, just in case it's the flu.  I've since decided it's most likely a sinus infection, but I'm taking the Tamiflu anyhow - just in case, and because I paid $50 for it.  I went back to work after my visit, but came home around 1 and slept until it was time to pick up Jimi from work.  It's 8:30 now, and I'll probably be in bed in the next 30 minutes or so - I want as much rest as possible, to give my body a chance to fight this off quickly.  I don't want to be nine and a half months pregnant and sick.  I especially don't want to be in labor and sick.  Immune system, don't fail me now!

There are a million other words to say.  I'll get to them all eventually.  For now, though, Momma's tired.