I’ve been trying to tell myself the truth about how I’m feeling at 41 weeks. Am I kind-of ok with it? REALLY ok with it (still feeling good, husband is 5 hours away still, and there’s no need for alarm until next weekend)? Super anxious? Over it? Done-cooked-time is up-eviction notice is posted? I tend to feign the latter attitude when people check me out, wide eyed and sympathetic that I’m not a mom yet. Everyone is checking in daily, wondering if I’m at the hospital, if the baby has arrived.
Baby is still a mysterious rolling movement inside my body that occasionally has the hiccups.
Despite seeing a very happy baby during my non stress test a few days ago, my doctor offered to induce me on Monday if I wanted.
As each day ticks on, I’m giving into not just ice cream and turkey sandwiches (been a vegan for over 5 years), but also thoughts like “maybe I’m not ready for this, maybe I want to be childless and I’m a DINK (that’s: dual incomes no kids), maybe my subconscious is scared and holding this baby in instead of welcoming him out, maybe I don’t trust myself or my husband, what is next, what happens after the baby is born, will anyone ever hire me, will we ever have enough money, it’s freezing out we should’ve stayed in California of course baby wants to be in the womb I would stay in there too…”
So then I had a big crying session the other morning. Actually woke up crying. And then after trying to seek comfort in my poor husband who couldn’t do much over the phone, had French toast and fake bacon and felt a little cleansed.
Then, I came across this article
The place of in-between. If you are expecting, in this boat of “baby could come any minute!”, waiting for this new life to arrive, give yourself a few minutes to read this piece. It’s a beautiful tribute to the days, the moments, the space before we, mom and baby, make the transition together.