The Waiting Game Begins

Tomorrow, I will be 38 weeks pregnant. I am excited, sore, tired (no, exhausted), and starting to get very irritable. I am trying hard to not let the irritation overtake me, but I definitely have felt it creep in more than I would like. I keep being told to stay active, yet to rest. I don't really know what these people think when they say that. I am tired of people being surprised when I tell them I'm due, or saying that I must be uncomfortable, or telling me I am huge and that it must be twins, etc, etc, etc. Last pregnancy, I felt incredible irritation at those comments. This time though I am finding myself more able to just smile and nod at them. Perhaps it's because I realize that these people mean well, or perhaps it's because I just don't care anymore what they say. I hope it's an indication that I am doing better at handling my emotions and that that means I won't have to fight with PPD this time. 

I look around and see all of the signs of kids and family and the crazy life that I lead. Random toys litter my floor, books are stacked up on different surfaces, handprints cover the walls and all glass surfaces, laughter floats in through the window as the boys play with mrblueberry outside, a huge stack of laundry awaits folding, and the remnants of dinner sit on the counter. I can't believe that this is my life and that very soon I will be adding one more little life into it.

My birthing space is almost ready complete with my support banner from the loved women in my life from A's birth, and I'm working through my doubts and fears that plagued me last time. This baby is welcome to join the world at any time, but I'm not rushing him. I know that he will come when he's ready. He will come and my world will once again be turned upside down. I have started again to be a little worried about the birth--that he won't be in the proper position, that something will go wrong, that I won't have everything I need, that my doulas or midwives will miss my call, that my boys will freak out, that he will be too big for me to birth. But that is my paranoid pregnant brain speaking. I know I have a fantastic support system--from my wonderful husband, to my doulas who I am lucky to also call friends, to my knowledgable midwives, to my excited (and perhaps antsy) mom. I know I can do this. And I know I have no control over most of what happens until it's time to work with my body and bring this baby out into the world. I'm just along for the ride at this point. My baby is calling the shots now. No matter what I do, no matter how much walking, spicy food, pineapple, red raspberry leaf tea, driving on bumpy roads, or acupressure I try in the days and weeks ahead, I have no control. And so, the waiting game begins. Your turn baby. Please don't make me wait as long as your brother did.