I guess the closer we get to the extraction (one way or another) of our little girl, the more anxious I feel. This also no doubt contributes to the frequency of my posts. No matter what I’m doing or discussing, it seems I just can’t get that topic out of my mind. I suppose it’s normal, but it feels really unprofessional (when I’m trying to deal with work) and one-dimensional (no matter what I’m dealing with). I also worry that I’m boring the daylights out of anyone in my vicinity. This causes me to want to isolate (who the hell wants to be boring?!). This makes me obsess more. Rinse, lather, repeat.
Physically, I’m tired of being pregnant. The fatigue is back with a vengeance, but of course it’s difficult to sleep. I don’t know if it’s because I currently have knees/feet in my lungs and stomach, but catching my breath sometimes feels impossible (even just trying to speak can be an effort here and there) and eating is becoming a bit more of an issue. Getting to work is becoming more of a herculean effort each day; hauling my big butt from the house to the car to the parking garage to the office feels monumental most mornings, and despite how early I get moving, I run behind due to my slow speed. I often pretend Gordon Ramsay is behind me screaming “big fat donkey” and “move your ass” just to get myself moving. All of this is “expected,” of course, and is well-documented in the books and websites. But as we all know, it’s one thing to read about something and another thing entirely to experience it.
Today is a telecommute day, which physically is a relief. We also go back for our weekly check up with the doctor and ultrasound. We may ultimately make a decision on how we want the little girl to join us today, but I think we’re waiting to see how big she is and if I’m experiencing any kind of progression before officially calling it. This also has my anxiety up, but there’s not much to be done about it other than try not to stew.
Like most of us, I never gave a whole lot of thought to pregnant women before this experience. Sure, I’d hold doors for them or cut them some slack in the store if they were moving a bit slow, but that was about it. Now, I think of all of these random women and envy how calm they seemed. I don’t feel calm at all. I wish I could just fast-forward through the next couple of weeks or so.