Last Saturday I was oh so proud of myself! I think I have that end-of-the-road burst of energy! I've been feeling so good lately, so not pregnant, so motivated! The weather has been gorgeous and Jack and I have loved taking walks or playing in the "yard," which just makes me feel more energized. So on Saturday, the house was spic-and-span, thanks to my helpful husband! Cupboards were stocked, meal plans laid out. My birth plan has been updated, I read through my natural childbirth class notes, finished up Jack's sitter notes, and filled out my maternity leave paperwork. Yard sale items are priced and ready to be shipped to PA via Marmie and Poppa. I also re-organized Jack's clothes in to his "new" old dresser and made room for baby stuff. I was about to start bringing all said baby stuff down from the attic when my husband stopped me. We have guests coming this weekend and the last thing we need are Boppies, Bumbos, bathtubs, carseats and clothes lying about the house. So I restrained myself... and slid this item to the bottom of my to-do list. To be tackled next weekend, the weekend before Easter and my in-laws come visit, which is the weekend before the week I'm due. Gulp! Why is is that despite having 9 months to prepare, I'm always caught off guard by how quickly it all goes by!?
So that was Saturday, and Saturday night found me relaxing on the couch trying to read through Childbirth Without Fear while I still have time! And then Sunday rolled around ... and I felt miserable. I thought it was just a random case of morning sickness. But by the time we got home from church I felt much worse. And so, so tired. For some reason I opted not to "sleep when the baby sleeps" and before I knew it Jack was up from his nap and I was really wishing I had taken one of my own. I spent the rest of the afternoon drifting in and out of consciousness on the couch, while Jack destroyed the living room. Jon came upstairs from the office an hour or so later to find books off the shelves, keys thrown about the room, crumbs on the floor and one very oblivious mama still lying on the couch.
I put Jack down to bed right at 7pm, drew a hot bath and read in the tub for the next hour. By 9pm I was in bed and out like a light. For a little while anyway. That is, until my stomach started to hurt, and then my heartburn came back in full force. Meanwhile Baby is kicking up a storm AND I'm having more contractions than usual (most likely the result of being sick and dehydrated). Finally, at 1am I jumped out of bed and ran to the bathroom just in time to throw up everything I managed to eat that day. I sat on the floor with my back against the bathroom sink thinking, "Oh God, please don't let this be labor!" Physical preparations aside, I just don't feel emotionally ready to have a baby yet. I want to hold on to these last few weeks with Jack. I want to savor these last few days of feeling the baby kick, watching my entire belly heave to one side. I want to laugh to myself just a few weeks longer whenever baby has the hiccups. I want to get just a little bigger so that I can finally fit into that one maternity shirt I bought months ago that is still too large. Yes, I'm excited about the new baby coming, and snuggling with the little guy, and smelling that sweet, sweet baby's breath, hearing those adorable grunts, playing with those tiny, tiny fingers and toes. But not just yet. I'll have my baby forever, I only have this pregnancy for a few more weeks. And I plan to relish every last moment of it!
And on top of all that, I really did not want to deliver a baby while feeling positively, downright miserable. I just wanted to sleep. I eventually made my way back to bed and did just that. But not after worrying a few minutes longer about Baby and vowing to myself that I would quickly finish preparation for his arrival as soon as I was on the mend.
Monday morning I felt better. Utterly exhausted still, but better. And I restricted myself to toast, crackers, ginger ale and water just to be safe. After watching Jack run around the house all morning I figured the best thing to do would be take him to the sitter and still go into work. Because (A) getting up and around forces you to feel better about yourself even if you feel like crap on the inside and (B) I figured I would have an easier day sitting at my desk than trying to entertain the little guy. Plus I didn't think it would be fair for him to have to spend two days in a row with a very boring Mommy. So that's what we did. And I'm glad. Because Jack had a fun day with his buddy Abbie and I had a good day at work.
And so, after 24 hours of illness and 24 hours of recovery, my house is a wreck. My poor family has had to fend for themselves when it comes to meals the past two days. The sink is full of dishes. Laundry is piling up. And we've been out of milk for 24 hours now. Clearly, it's time for Mommy to recover. And despite what I was able to accomplish on Saturday, after Sunday night's episode I realize I still have a way to go yet before Baby's arrival.
"Now Baby, I know that Nonnie is praying you make your debut while she's here over Easter. And that would be very convenient for your brother Jack, who is not allowed to visit you in the hospital. But Mommy's just not sure, and Daddy, well he has a LOT of papers and projects to finish first. But one thing I do ask, if possible, is to please arrive on a day when Mommy is feeling really good. And Daddy asks that you not keep him up all night during your arrival like your big brother did. We love you, see you soon!"