36 Weeks

I haven't written anything all week. I've been fighting off my super ugly self critic now and then, but honestly I'm so damn exhausted its hard to hold onto linear and intelligent thoughts throughout the day. I'm finding creative comfort in making a baby mobile for Maddox and painting portraits of bananas all over my apartment, yep, bananas. Painting and sewing are extremely relaxing and helping me to feel as if I have accomplished something, even if the only thing I did all day was lay on the couch sewing doilies on a stuffed elephant.

The last weeks/days of pregnancy have descended upon me, and man are they ugly. At 34 weeks I made fun of the pregnant women with their tiny bumps at the park waddling along the trails as me and my massive baby-belly gracefully and easily made the 3 mile walk. A few days later I found out my baby girl was already a whooping 6 1/2 lbs. And a few days after that I suddenly woke up feeling like I, quite literally, had a bowling ball in between my legs. I tried to walk my 5 month old puppy around the block last night, and I shit you not, I had to stop and sit down on the curb 3 times to catch my breath. Reminded me that I really need to wait before patting myself on the back or just stop doing it all together.

I'm floating through these days with not to much of a thought on my mind. Strangers enthusiasm about my soon to be ending pregnancy irritate me. Good hearted birthing advice from strangers and friends irritate me and other pregnant ladies complaints about their pregnancies irritate me. So I'm accepting I'm just plain irritable these days.  A cashier today, bright eyed and with a bright smiled, exclaimed how excited I must be with my daughter's arrival fast approaching. I told her I was to physically miserable to be excited, and she seemed taken aback by my response. I should wear a shirt with some kind of warning on it for good hearted strangers and friends. And don't you worry Dont worry cashier, I'll be a good mom, I swear.

I'm giving myself a massive break these days and it helps. No self imposed fake smiles or upbeat conversations. Women do this every day all over the world, they probably do it better and have it a lot worse. But I'm giving them a break too. Not forcing myself to go anywhere I don't want to go (other than work which I must), answer any phone calls I don't want to answer, and engage in any mindless conversations I don't want to. I'm aiming towards being politely absentminded, and cleaning up whatever messes I make along the way. Afterall, as much as it may feel good at the time to yell at whatever co-worker doesn't re-stock the beer fridge at night, I still have to work with them tomorrow and after Maddox is born. So take out the frustration in the doilies and in my new found obsession with painting bananas.

I started going into labor at 35 1/2 weeks. I was 1cm dilated and having weak, but regular contractions. They gave me a couple shots of something to relax my uterus and an ambien and sent me home. I'm taking it real easy now, she needs to stay in here for at least 1 more week, when she will be considered full term. The early labor scare made me realize how not ready I really am. In all honesty, I'm as ready as one can be, but you never really feel ready for this kind of thing. I've been extremely impatient about her arrival for the past 35 weeks but after last weeks scare I'm trying to savor every lone moment I have left. Enjoying the uninterrupted painting sessions I still can have and enjoying the uninterrupted mornings were I can still wail and play the guitar (although her kicks do already control how loudly I can play).

I dream about her almost every night, she is a different form in every dream, but my love is overflowing every time I meet her in my dreams. This is the biggest test of patience I've ever been given. Just take it a moment at a time and I'm a bit closer to meeting her than I was yesterday.