The last time I was pregnant, many of my friends (both IRL and in-the-computer) who were also pregnant got very antsy in late pregnancy and just wanted the kid OUT OF THERE. Most of them were one or two months ahead of me, so I spent the last weeks of my pregnancy wondering when I’d start to feel like that. I never really did – as I got close to, and a few days past 40 weeks, I really wanted to MEET Harpo and find out who s/he was, but I was never miserably pregnant and never desperate for the child to COME OUT.
I had a feeling as long ago as June that I probably wouldn’t be that lucky this time, and I’m not. I am THERE. I want this kid OUT. I’ve had trouble sleeping all summer, and major back pain, and now I have no stamina. Last time we did what I affectionately refer to as the “Bataan Death Hike” on my due date to get the baby to come – three hours of HIKING in Rock Creek Park (what the HELL was I thinking – I did spend the rest of the afternoon and evening on the couch desperately hoping the baby wouldn’t come that night as I was exhausted) but this time, walking to the Farmer’s Market yesterday, 4 blocks away, nearly did me in. In my defense, it’s a lot hotter in August than April.
However, back to the topic at hand. I really want this baby to be born, and I haven’t even hit my due date yet. I did make a major effort with this pregnancy not to get hung up on a due date, having learned that every second past your due date is agonizing, if you’ve been fixated on that date – even if you’re fully aware that due dates are basically meaningless. This time I never focused on the date, and have always told people that the baby is due in “mid September”, so I wouldn’t have people harassing me when/if the baby wasn’t here. It’s a good theory, but self-denial only works up to a point, and my hugeness has been making people look at me like I am a time bomb for a month and a half now, so efforts to ignore or gloss over the due date have been pretty much wasted.
In addition to discomfort and wanting people to stop harassing me (ugh, the phone calls from parents who NEVER CALL ME have begun – I cannot tell you how irritating THAT is – what, do they think we’d have the baby and forget to tell them???), I’m also D.O.N.E. with work… but I am not. I have to go in until this kid is dangling from my crotch, pretty much, or forfeit some of my already-too-short leave once he or she arrives. I’ve made it so far because it’s all been prep work. Catering to teachers is in some ways more challenging than coping with hordes of 4-11 year olds, especially when everything that can go wrong does*, but teaching all day long is exhausting, and I am dreading it. I had really hoped Carbo would have made an entrance by now, but it sure looks like I’ll be going in tomorrow, and perhaps for days or weeks to come. Not to mention that every day I work means ANOTHER day of lesson plans I have to write… and another day of lesson plans I *didn’t* need to write because I ended up teaching.
I know that I’m lucky to be having a baby in the first place, and that once this baby is here, I’ll forget about all of this. But right now? I’m SO there. Baby, PLEASE COME OUT!
*Broken laminator? Check. School-wide printer problems? Check. AV equipment failing minutes before the start of the year assembly? Check. Countless other SNAFUs? Check.