I think reality is hitting – that we will be parents in one week (plus a few hours). While I can’t speak exactly for Will, I know his anxiety is creeping up a bit. I know mine is. So far, however, it’s not so much nerves about the procedure itself, or even imminent parenthood, but the realization that I have a week to get everything sewn up to the best of my ability.
This will be the longest I’ve gone without working since the summer I graduated from high school (1991, anyone?). I plan to telecommute once my doctor clears me for it, but it’s going to be very strange NOT to have to go to work every day. I’m fortunate, as I actually like my job for the most part, and I have a wonderful boss and colleagues that help with that. I get my job done, but still have time to visit with these people that I generally like an awful lot. I’m going to miss that interaction, I think. I’ve busted my tail to clear my task list, and I’m leaving my responsibilities in very good order. I still feel a bit maternal about my work. I can only assume that I will be very much distracted soon by feeling maternal about something else entirely.
I will say that it gets harder and hard to haul my big butt up to the office each day. I simply don’t move fast anymore. It takes longer each morning to get dressed, feed the cats and birds, and make my way from the garage to the office, especially when I get downtown too late to park on the first floor. And the nightly ritual of preparing dinner, lunches for the next day, and laying out tomorrow’s clothes makes me feel like Sisyphus. It’s very frustrating for someone who usually zooms around. It’s probably a good thing that soon I’ll be on mandatory lockdown. I’ll be glad (eventually) to get my energy back.
I’m also starting to fixate on household stuff. I feel pretty damn confident that we’re ready for the baby as far as her environment goes. But then there’s the more mundane issues like wanting to make sure everything else (kitchen, bathrooms, floors) are as clean as possible before I go to the hospital. Normally, no big deal. I would allocate a certain amount of time each evening after work to do a certain number of tasks and voila! Chores done. Now, however, I’m so tired and sore most evenings that even cooking dinner feels like a marathon. Will and my mother (and anyone else that I speak to about it) tells me just to let it go, but as a classic wanna-be over-achiever, that’s easier said than done. I’m even worrying about having my house clean for my stepmother’s arrival that’s a month or more away. Yes, I do know that’s crazy.
I guess what this all boils down to is the knowledge that my usual M.O. and identity are about to change to a huge degree. Things that are very important and worrisome this week will likely not even pop up on the radar after next week. That’s a very odd thing to think about and prepare for. Just like going to the hospital with 2 people and coming home with an extra individual that doesn’t even legally exist today (talk about creating something out of nothing).
This may be the most boring blog ever. Sorry.