I went to see my midwife on Monday. She's been great through the whole process and I do really like her BUT as she made me an appointment for next Tuesday she said 'but I don't think you'll make it'. Which is awesome, right? The Trog is ready and raring to go and Spidermonkey and I are looking forward to meeting our little burninator.
Well, initially I was very excited. Monday I called my parents to let them know they might be booking flights to Sydney soon. Tuesday I spent cooking so we would have at least a few meals for after the birth. Wednesday I spent running around sorting out last minute things for the classes I teach. And now it's Thursday... Thursday... (tick tock tick tock tick tock).
Up until then I was quite content to think to myself - could be now, could be 2 or 3 weeks from now (I was just on 39 weeks at that stage). Suddenly there is an expectation. It's ridiculous - she was just trying to be encouraging. There is no way she can tell when this baby will be ready to be born. But now I have performance pressure.
I'm the type of person who has trouble using public bathrooms if I know there is some-one in the stall next to mine who might be able to hear me. You want to add an extra 15 minutes on to my average 'toilet time'? - bang on the door and ask me if I'm going to be much longer. (Not that I'm suggesting any-one would want that - I'm just making a point) Now I feel like I'm on a four day limit to get the baby out. My cervix is welding shut as I type this, I just know it.
This may be a world first 11 1/2 month human gestation.
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1 comment:
Breathe, relax, all the rest of that crap. I'll be waiting to hear!
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