The Home Stretch

I realize I haven't talked too much about this pregnancy on the ol' blog.

Maybe some of you are wondering if I'm really pregnant. (That would be the group of ya that don't see me regularly. I doubt there's any denying this baby if you see me...)

Well, I am. Really pregnant. And very pregnant. And still pregnant. Which is the way it should be, since I'm just over 38 weeks along now. How is it possible that, at the same time, I feel as though I have been pregnant for-ev-er and yet completely not ready to have this baby? We have less than one week until the scheduled c-section : May 18th. High noon.

I'm feeling all the typical late-pregnancy symptoms : Exhaustion, aches and pains, exhaustion, multiple bathroom breaks an hour, exhaustion, and random potty-mouth. Well, the random potty-mouth goes along with the bipolar-like mood swings that I'm not yet ready to admit I have. Who, me? Prone to mood swings? Surely not. I'm as calm and even-tempered as they come. As evidenced by the number of times I've sworn at my husband over the last week. I'm calm and even-tempered.

Adam would say that is a bold-face lie. Except he knows that insinuating that I am lying would bring on another mood swing, and he recognizes a downward spiral he doesn't want to deal with. So he'll *smartly* keep his mouth quiet. He's no dummy.

A few more lies that fly out of my mouth with abandon:

"How am I feeling? I feel great!" (Truth : I would take a c-section with no pain meds if it meant that this baby would GET THE HECK OUT OF HERE! I am not sleeping, I have insane pain in my hips and down my legs, and I have to pee three times an hour. I'm ready to be done.)

"We are so excited! Can't wait to have baby number three!" (Truth : I'm terrified out of my mind and break down into tears on a daily basis wondering how I'm going to handle three when I can't really handle two. I am grateful to be a mother, truly, but can't help but think of how badly I'm messing these kids up.)

"No, we don't have a name yet. We're waiting to meet her." (Truth : Well, that's true, but the real reason she doesn't have a name yet is that we cannot decide. We're crossing our fingers that once we see her, the decision will be much easier.)


The good news? We'll have lots of help when the baby comes. My sweet mother is coming for the first week and my sweet mother-in-law is coming for the second week.

Adam actually gets the first week off from work, so he'll be here too. Which would be listed as "lots of help" except he keeps calling it a "vacation" and I can count the number of times he has got up in the night with one of our children on ZERO fingers so ... I'm not expecting much ;) Except he actually said that he is going to stay in the hospital with me, to "take care of you (me)." So there is a glimmer of hope after all.

I keep dreaming and waking-terror-ing that they present me with another son. First, is that normal? Second, is it wrong to be so worried? Truth be told, I imagine myself handling it just fine, being totally thrilled, and bonding instantly with another man-child. But with the whacked-out hormones involved with birth, I actually can't promise anything. So we'll see. I've got a boy outfit and a girl outfit packed in my bag. Just in case. Also, I'm really just hoping that he or she comes home with a name. Because I am completely blank when it comes to the right name. And Adam has even less ideas. It's going to make things very interesting.

My mom will be here in less than 48 hours, the carpets are being cleaned tomorrow, the car is getting cleaned tonight, and we're having Mexican food the night before the c-section. It appears we are totally ready!!