Sorry Tom Petty. Even as I write that I am not sure that it is strictly true for me.
Yes. It is a little weird to live in suspended anticipation. Like waiting for a package to arrive. A flight to land. The cable guy. An important phone call.
All to come out the bottom end of your body.
Yes. I am helpless to retrieve anything at my feet. Put on my shoes. Walk very far without huffing. Eat very much without reaching for the Gaviscon. Turn over in bed without a project plan and a crane.
My body is very very full. And tired.
Yes. The novelty of pregnancy has worn off a while ago. The sympathy and the empathy and the extra attention has waned. My general crankiness and body woes are old news.
My body is over it.
But somehow, I am still finding small things to do. Today I am making my play lists for labour! Chill CDs and UpBeat CDs! Who knows if I will actually use them, but is sure fun to choose what songs I imagine will make me mellow and breathe and which will spur me on to Keep Going.
I am washing all the wee clothes and blankets.
I am piling more things on the Hospital Bag Pile.
I am having Coffee Dates with Pregnant Pals. (I have never been so popular).
I am reading novels by the boatload.
I am seeing movies.
I am taking naps.
I am downloading Feeding and Diaper tracking apps for my iPhone.
Yet I know the time is coming near. And not just because people who were due before me have now HAD their babies. (which is a pretty loud wake up call). I can feel my body changing. Things shifting south. My hormones cranking up. Odd things making me irritable. Odd things making me cling to Mark.
SO waiting so far is hard. But not the hardest part.
I have a sneaky suspicion that is still to come. The labour. The delivery. The coming home as parents. The enormous change that I am standing at the precipice of. The responsibility. The heartbreaking love I am already having for my boy.
What I can do now is be calm about that.
And not freak.
Be excited that our boy is coming very soon.