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Yesterday I left the office at 3:30 pm. You see, I was completely exhausted. Dog tired. But tired of what is the question…I mean, being pregnant does take its toll on your body, your mind, your spirit, but I don’t think I ever anticipated just feeling so wrung out at the end of the day, or in this case, the middle of the afternoon. I’ve long been able to draw energy from various sources, be it exercise or a cup of coffee, and carry on, be a trooper, sally forth…but this is a new kind of tired I’ve never felt before. It leaves me a bit lacking in my ability to process thoughts properly and has me concerned about my ability to drive in rush hour traffic. So, I left, went home, stretched out on the bed for a little while with my dog, relaxed, unwound. I do wonder if I’m tired physically or tired mentally right now…tired of work and some of the things it involves, tired of my lengthy commute which isn’t necessarily the most comfortable car ride in the world right now…tired of this part of my life and ready for the next adventure? Perhaps.
Last night my husband and I went out for a celebratory dinner in honor of his recent raise/stellar assessment. Just the two of us enjoying a REALLY fantastic meal at a good restaurant for what may be the last time. We enjoyed each other’s company. We enjoyed occasional silence. We are savoring every last moment of this chapter in our lives together…and, each in our own way, learning to accept that things will never be the same.
Nearly 37 (so very close, yet so far) weeks, originally uploaded by dharmabumx.
If you’d told me a year ago that I’d be waddling around 37 weeks pregnant I’m not sure I would’ve believed you. But, here I am…technically to term and about as comfortable as can be expected when one is walking around carrying a watermelon on the inside…a very active watermelon at that.
I’m not sure what I expected all of this to feel like or what sort of emotions I thought I’d have throughout this entire process. I don’t think anything I’ve felt or thought has quite fit the mold of the stereotypical pregnant woman, at least by popular media definition. I haven’t been overly emotional or irrational or craving bizarro foods. I haven’t been obsessed with nesting or cooing over baby-related objects. I haven’t had strange dreams involving the child to be. I kind of feel like a visitor in my own body lately, moving about with some difficulty knowing that I’m only 3 weeks from resuming somewhat normal operations.
3 weeks from yesterday we have a scheduled induction
3 weeks from today I will be a mother.
3 weeks from today I will know the sex of my child.
3 weeks from today my life will be totally different.
Am I ready for all of this?
