It’s August 1st, which means that I will officially be having a baby this month (trust me, if he’s over 2 weeks late, I will perform my own c-section before September rolls around). Tomorrow I hit 38 weeks, which means my due date is in 15 days. Which is bananas.
The last time I was this pregnant, I was psychologically a disaster. My OB had assured me that Eli would arrive by the end of April. When May rolled around, I lost it. I was angry and frustrated and more than anything, I was anxious to meet my son. I was experiencing the normal discomforts of late pregnancy, but nothing serious. It was a head game.
This time, it’s very much the opposite. I do want to meet this baby and I am excited beyond description for him to arrive, but I am not, at least psychologically, in a rush. I want him to stay in until he’s ready. But holy crap is this pregnancy physically a lot more awful. (Let’s be clear- none of this is atypical, none of this is worse than anyone else’s pregnancy experience. I have good perspective here, it doesn’t mean that parts of it don’t suck.)
For the past 6 weeks I’ve had pubic symphysis pain like I did not know could exist. It feels basically like someone kicked me in the crotch all day long. It’s good times. On top of that, the headaches that have been so delightfully absent since the 2nd trimester blood volume increase have come roaring back, almost daily. And, because that isn’t fun enough, I can’t feel 3 of my fingertips on my right hand, because apparently you can get carpal tunnel from pregnancy. THE MORE YOU KNOW.
This morning my OB sent me over to labor and delivery to be monitored because the baby has been minimally active and my fundal height/weight aren’t increasing the way they’d like. Happily, the baby looks awesome (and he sucks his thumb!), and despite having contractions every 3-5 minutes, a cervical check showed that I am clearly not having this baby imminently. Wah wah.
In the meantime, we’re continuing to try to get Eli excited about being a big brother, which so far is not going well at all. We bought him a baby doll, hoping it would increase his interest in babies. Let’s just say, it did not. He does not want the pretend baby to touch anything of his. He does not want the pretend baby to be near him and there is absolutely zero chance that he will considering holding or intentionally touching the baby.
He did get marginally excited about the prospect of being a big brother after reading a book where the big brother saved the little brother last night (Come Out and Play Little Mouse), but that’s about it so far. I know he’ll come around, I just feel bad for the way his life is going to change, even though I know in the long term it’s going to be great.
So now we wait. And hopefully soon we’ll have more excitement to report. Let’s go August!