When you are pregnant, it seems that just about everybody is happy for you. Whether it be a store clerk, long-lost friend, or those closest to you, everybody seems genuinely excited by the thought of a miraculous bundle of joy entering the world.
With that excitement comes curiosity, predictions and hypotheses. When it comes to babies we have very little control - aside from being proactively healthy, the path that pregnancy takes really is up to Mother Nature. Yet we can't seem to help ourselves when it comes to making guesses about certain aspects of the process.
The first wave of predictions revolves around the gender. Pretty much everybody has "gut instincts" or "feelings" about the sex of the baby. Who knows what we all base these conjectures on. Some base it on how you carry the baby, what they saw in a dream, how much morning sickness you have, the direction a wedding ring hanging by a hair swings over the mother's belly....
This first wave of speculation was actually really fun and entertaining. I have never been part of such innocent betting and gambling. No matter who is right or wrong, we all win in the end!
The second wave has started to get the best of me though. As the due date approaches, we have all begun to make guesses about the baby's date of arrival. Now I truly believe that nobody can actually know when she will arrive, but being the gullible person I am, I keep believing everybody. When somebody tells me they think she will be here early, I think to myself, "Thank GOD, I can't wait much longer!" I always feel so thankful that I have talked to this wise person and they have shared the amazing news with me. But when somebody tells me they think she will be late, again I believe them and find myself somewhat depressed, let down and overwhelmed. No matter who is sharing their information about my baby's actual birthday, I will take it to heart. This morning I found a delivery date predictor online - according to the website, I will have a 14 pound boy on a misty morning mid-December. I think that was a sign that I need to stop over-thinking everything.
I'm guessing it is a bit obvious that the last few days have been a bit tougher. What it all boils down to is I am struggling to wrap my head around what is happening and what is about to happen, and everything I'm feeling seems so contradictory and disconnected. I've been told time and time again to enjoy my sleep, alone time and pregnancy but am having a hard time doing that when I am not feeling stellar and just want to meet her.... which of course makes me feel guilty for not enjoying each moment, knowing I will look back on this with a bit of nostalgia very soon. How I wish I could control the craziness in my head!
Poor Charley.
39 Weeks
My most recent pastime has been searching for ways to speed up this process. It is pretty ridiculous how many ways there are to bring about labor. Pineapple juice, spicy food, castor oil (yuck!), walking, bouncing, squats, eggplant, raspberry tea... All of these (amongst many other things) are supposed to bring about labor. I'm not going to lie, I've started drinking pineapple juice and add a healthy dose of pepper to pretty much everything I cook... which is funny because I absolutely know that this baby's birthday is, without a doubt, determined by the big man upstairs (and not my diet).
I need a hobby.
I need a hobby other than being a cat lady
The other day my doctor told me that things are all looking great with the baby, but my she is still very high. I can attest to this because I have been using my stomach as a convenient shelf for my sleepy-time tea every night and have yet to spill.
Now time for the final stretch!
38 Weeks
Your look beautiful!
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