I'm starting to feel like it's coming ever fasterrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr!
Lots of unknowns, and if you know me well, you know I can't tolerate unknowns. I worry about the whole delivery thing. I worry he'll have some currently undetectable health problem. I worry he'll be a colic baby -- I was, and I'm probably in for some payback. I am just excrutiatingly curious about everything from what does he look like? to how will my body take it? to what does that sort of exhaustion feel like?
Elizabeth made me a list of things to bring to the hospital and what I should stock up on back at home (besides the obvious). I haven't always loved being a middle child, but it does come in handy in times like these. I've been trying to balance the R&R with the exercise, and Jeff and I are trying to maximize these last weeks as a family of 2.
The last 33 weeks have been sloshed with many more tears falling at a much more frequent rate than I was used to. Tears for many reasons. There's the classic "That's.....So.......SAD!!!" but there are also tears of just spending too much time thinking of how sweet something is, how grateful I am for the people in my life, etc. etc. etc. Last night I was reading Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close and try as I might to be brave I was sobbing all over me, the blankets, and the couch. Jeff gave me a darling hug, gently took the book away and said, "If you're crying on page 14, maybe we should not read this book for a while." And then he changed the subject to happier things. I haven't really cried over religious matters in years -- I think I got it all out of my system in the MTC. About a month ago I was making the tiniest comment in Relief Society about nothing much and I had to pause 3 times to (in the end, unsuccessfully) try to maintain composure.
Since I cry easily when I'm very tired, I don't think that's going away for a while. Maybe a couple of people reading this just said, "Or ever."
The pregnant brain factor seems to be kicking up a few knotches a week. Today I was leaving the post office holding my wallet and some garbage. I chucked my wallet into the public trash can.
Here's to 4 to 7 more weeks of this weird, funky, fortunate, uncomfortable, unpredictable stay in pregnancyland. And a Happy New Year!