My strategy for getting through the last few weeks of pregnancy? Fill my life with as many distractions as possible. Like painting half the rooms in my house, cleaning and organizing the garage, going to the pool, writing meaningless blog entries, committing to watch kids the week before I'm due and planning birthday celebrations on my due date. Other strategies? Purposely not pulling out the baby car seat, swing, bouncy seat and crib from the garage and also positioning the baby clothes far enough back in a closet that makes it almost impossible to get to. Oh yeah, and not buying newborn diapers. This way I can convince myself that I'm just not ready to have this baby and therefore will not waste time each day hoping it will come right now. A sort of mental exercise that I hope will keep me sane since my babies all tend to come after their due date. What does that little baby gadget on the blog do after it runs out of days anyway? We'll most likely find out.
Don't get me wrong, I am most definitely fatter than I ever have been. I passed that point about a month ago. I would love to be able to bend over again, and breathe and shave my legs properly and have a lap. I look forward to being able to roll over in bed without grunting and having a regular body temperature again (remember when the chapel felt cold?). I will be glad to pack up the only remaining maternity outfits large enough to contain me (It's like I'm wearing a uniform, and FYI, they're both dirty right now. No way am I buying more clothes to fit me now.) Most of all I look forward to meeting the child that I have carried around for so long. What will he look like, besides the standard bald, blue-eyed edition that we are known to produce? What will his personality be like? I don't think that part of having a baby ever gets old.
While the distractions are surely helping me not dwell too much on my ongoing discomfort, I am convinced that the ninth month of pregnancy is designed to make you feel as awkward, uncomfortable, heavy and impatient as possible so that you will do anything, anything to get the baby here just so you can end the misery. Even labor. It gets so bad that labor sounds pretty good after a while. Just a few hours of pain? Less than a day and it'll be done? Sign me up.
Wait. Writing this is making me think too much about it, which defeats my strategy. Mental exercise: I'm not ready, the baby has nothing to wear, there are still rooms to tear apart and organize, the car seat probably still has stains on it from the last kid... yeah, that's better.