I have been feeling funky the past couple of days. Exhausted. Anxious. Crampy. A lot of lower back pain. Alternately famished and queasy.
All of this could mean this baby's arrival is imminent.
Or it could mean I will feel like poopy for MANY MORE weeks.
WHO KNOWS. The more pregnancies I live through, the more I realize that every little thing could mean anything. Or nothing.
I would like the little stinker to hang out for a little while longer; I would like to avoid the NICU (I'm still just 35 1/2 weeks), and - well, I want my MOMMY. I will feel much better going into labor if my mother is here to help PVT with all the chaos and minutiae that transpire daily Chez VT. Thankfully, my mom arrives late next week.
So I spend my days in an odd, distracted haze: I alternately want this baby to come NOW, so excited I am to meet her and to NOT be pregnant. And then I think, HUH? Don't you want a few more weeks of relatively uninterrupted sleep? And time with the four you've got, who don't seem to get enough of you even now?
You see the futility of all this circular thinking. And I couldn't even distract myself on Nordstrom.com:
HUH? Even Nordstrom.com is down? So feel free to call. Stop by. Email. I will just be sitting here, feeling funky, ignoring my children and staring into space.
I Was Lied To For 9 Months. Twice.
6 hours ago