Monday, April 19, 2010

...and we wait.

I dislike waiting. But there's nothing to be done about it at this point. Today was a day I awoke with energy, decided to make pancake breakfast with eggs, get some things done. The Man cleaned the car thoroughly (My HERO!) and we've attempted to position the unused car seat rear-facing but have yet to find out if the big Britax we splurged on almost 4 years ago will even work properly in the Escape.

There are other days that it's completely opposite. Waking up is hard to do, everything is extra heavy, and I'm feeling home-bound and seriously tired. It's the beginning of the end, less than 3 weeks til the (40) week due date, technically we're deliverable any time now. I find myself caught between optimistic excitement of this pregnancy finally being over, getting to meet the new person; and the natural anxiety around labor and delivery. I keep reminding myself that I did it once, it'll most likely happen essentially the same way again. My habit is to question my memory, did I really do that well? was it really just the 8 hours or so? was it really that simple? If I allow self-doubt to creep in, then fear can get a foothold and there's a bit of a trek back from that flawed thinking. So I visualize the whole process, from leaving the house(or wherever) either by waters breaking or steady predictable contractions, to the beautiful Exempla Good Samaritan Center for Childbirth...and then one contraction at a time until the inevitable arrival of The New One in my arms. After that, my only expectations are of new challenges and growth opportunities...and maybe a breakfast or two in bed.

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