To be honest, I thought Chet would make his grand entrance into the world by now. Why? For no reason other than I thought he would be here by now. Naive? Maybe. Optimistic? Absolutely. I have 7 days until my due date and 21 more days before I’ll even consider the “induction” word. In theory, I still could have a long road ahead of me.
Prior to this week I wondered why people took time off before they actually had their baby. I’ve been clinging on to my sick and vacation time since I got pregnant so I can still collect a pay check (and pay my mortgage) while I’m on maternity leave. Why waste a week of that before the baby arrives? I get it now. It is so hard to wake up in the morning. It’s hard to focus on anything at work. It’s exhausting sitting in front of a computer. Chet seems to be sitting lower by the day. I now have a few inches between my boobs and my belly (my belly used to work as a push-up bra before). The lower he gets, the more my hips ache. Today they are on fire. I’ve been doing hula circles all day in my office. If I’m on my feet, I’m swaying one way or another. I would love for today to be my last day at work, but I do want as much (paid) time as possible with Chet at home after his birth. My alarm clock will still go off at 6am until Chet arrives no matter how much I want to stay home. Thank goodness for the long holiday weekend.
(There is something seriously wrong with the priorities of a culture that almost requires double incomes in order to survive but doesn’t provide any paid maternity/paternity leave. Makes me wonder how valued parenting really is in our culture? But that is for another post all together.)
Physically I’m still feeling all the signs that labor could be starting any day (or hour). I’m still having a lot of irregular contractions. Some nights they are painful and wake me up. Some nights I only wake up to roll over. Gravity is definitely working it’s magic. Chet gets lower every day. Besides my hips aching, my upper thighs are also feeling the extra weight. I’m having a lot of aches and pains in my upper legs. Nausea has been hit or miss all week. Some days I feel sick to my stomach all day long. Other days I’m fine.
I now have a few stretch marks below my belly button. I honestly thought I’d be upset if I got stretch marks this pregnancy, but I’m surprisingly okay with it. They aren’t bad, and they are below my belly button. I’m pretty sure they showed up once Chet dropped. If all I have to show for two healthy pregnancies is two healthy babies and a few stretch marks, life is pretty good.
Mentally I’m fading. I think every woman has to become mentally exhausted by pregnancy in order to be mentally prepared for having a baby in this world. Although I will miss pregnancy, I’m ready to not be pregnant anymore. To be honest, I think I would make a great hermit until I have Chet. I could happily live in a cabin by myself until I’m ready to introduce Chet to the world. I wish I could be a mother cat that disappears into the woods until she has her kittens. Maybe it’s the nature lover in me? Maybe it’s natures way preparing me for labor? Maybe I’m just weird? No matter what is causing my desire to be isolated, I don’t think Christian and Cole would appreciate me disappearing. I know I’d miss them too. For my friends and family, please excuse me if I’m not the most social person before Chet arrives.
The plan for week 39 is take it one day at a time. I’m keeping up with my Red Raspberry Leaf Tea in take. I’m carving out as much quiet time for myself as I can find. I have another doctor’s appointment late Thursday afternoon. I plan on heading to yoga from that appointment. Christmas is on Sunday. I’ve got plenty of things to keep me busy between now and Chet’s actual birth date. If I don’t have Chet by his due date, I plan on scheduling an appointment with a massage therapist. Who doesn’t deserve a little pampering?
For now, it is a waiting game. One of these contractions will eventually turn into a series of contractions. I’ll be timing them before I know it. Until that happens, Chet is growing stronger by the day!
And a view from the front because I just realized I’ve never posted one. Oops!
Kristy Maute 
I totally agree with your little sidenote. I actually had to pay for my time off so I could still have insurance. Luckily, Matt was paid for the week he took off. Thank goodness he had sick days to use.
I agree too, what kind of culture do we have that sends working moms back to work at 6 weeks post partum! In other countries they get from 6 months to 1 year and most of it is paid. No fair! I had 3 months at home but only 4 weeks were paid, ouch! I could only get paid for the days I had in sick days and with it being my second in 3 years, I obviously didn’t have a lot stored up. Sounds like your plan is good, take it one day at a time and enjoy things now while you can. “Quiet” time will be a thing of the past once Chet arrives (but in a good way!) :o)