|Easter Sunday and 36 weeks|
So I'm now 36 1/2ish weeks. Measuring over 42 weeks. For some reason since my appointment last week my pregnancy math skills did this: 41-35 = 4 weeks big. Um yeah...that's definitely 6 weeks big. No wonder I'm down to 2 shirts, only one of which isn't stained. Both shirts were made or altered by me to fit too. I might have to make another one or two to get me through potentially 6 more weeks of pregnancy. Let's hope it's more like 2-4 weeks though.
As for comfort: I was doing okay until I realized the baby had more than likely dislocated a rib. It hurt A LOT. But then I got it popped back in and it's been feeling better. BUT THEN, the baby decided ramming its head into my left hip was a comfy spot and now I have little use of my left leg most of the time and am in so much pain when I lie down I can barely sleep. And it doesn't help that my daughter's mouth has picked NOW to work on 2 year molars. Yeah, she worked on her last 8 teeth in my first trimester. Her mouth hates me. So even if I do fall asleep, she's waking up a good 3-4 times a night.
But this baby is not allowed to come until next week at the earliest. My doctor, doula, and parents are all out of town until then and I simply have not planned enough to do this without them. I'm in a slight panic about the whole thing, actually. I know I can get this baby out, but I'm not sure I can do it naturally without the support of my "team." So prayers appreciated that the baby will wait at least until the middle of next week when everyone will be around.
I still don't have other essentials ready for the baby. Like a name. I *think* we've settled on a girl's name, but the boy's name is still not coming together. At all. We had a list of three potential names, but the more I said them, the more I didn't like them. So we scrapped them and started over. And I'm still not thrilled with any of the names I've come up with. The name I fell in love with is one my husband does not like at all. Which is fine, this is his child, too. But it's hard for me to get past that name I have in the back of my head. And so far every other name I've come up with that I like, there is some sort of "baggage" one of us has associated with it: an old boss who was a total jerk, a high school teacher that was an idiot, a family member that is not particularly preferred, etc. Names are hard. And I think they're harder now than they were back in the day. I mean, honestly, our grandparents just picked a name, didn't matter if their cousin or next door neighbor had the same name. But now, if an old highschool classmate that you weren't even friends with but is now your friend on facebook has a child with that name, you cannot use it or you're perceived as copying. Really???? ugh. And here's the thing, I don't want to pick a name that is too trendy, but it seems like that sometimes can't be helped. We named our daughter and only knew of one or two other people who had that name, but now everyone I meet has a daughter or granddaughter with that name. Just. Can't. Win.
So I'm stressing just a bit. I still need to finish my birthing skirt (based on this tutorial). I haven't finished reading the birthing books I want to. Nor have I sat my husband down and forced him to read certain sections so he can be helpful during labor. My birth plan is still in my head and not on paper. I need to get my sitz bath stuff put together or any other postpartum stuff. Haven't organized or even made a list for my hospital bag. I really wanted to make a little present for Little Miss from the baby. I had hoped to get some freezer meals together (since I think I'm opting out of getting meals through our church: our diet is fairly particular and I've heard what the women say about new moms with special food requests. Plus I just flat out don't want any visitors for awhile). I need to make a sign for the door that says in a nice way to go away because I'm resting. The hubby and I have finally decided a tv in our bedroom would be super helpful for me when I'm in recovery, so that needs to happen. Plus the hubby is in full "get going on finishing the basement" mode.
So little sleep + too much to do = exhausted and stressed. And the thought of just a few more weeks is both terrifying and comforting. I'll survive, I know I will, but will I have the energy to get through a natural labor? Hopefully.