Every day, my body plays a mean trick on me. I'll have hours of contractions that get stronger and closer together and I'll start to think, "Maybe tonight..." But then they start spacing back out again, and my hopes that I can get this kiddo out are dashed. I did this with Aiden, too--my body faked me out for weeks, but then one night, the contractions just didn't stop and kept coming and he was born some 16 hours later.
It is a bit frustrating, this point in pregnancy. I am not a patient person. I don't do well at waiting. Not only am I wondering when Aubrey will come, I feel like I have everyone and their brother keeping tabs on me. The "No baby yet?" phone calls from friends and relatives, the emails wondering when she'll come, and my personal favorite, the "Don't go into labor tonight, I've got (fill in your favorite activity here) tomorrow that I can't miss!" Like I have any control over when this kid comes out! Then there are the comments from perfect strangers: "You look ready to explode!" and "Oh no, you have weeks left, you haven't dropped yet...."
Even Aiden is getting anxious. For months, we told him that Aubrey would come some time after Halloween, hoping to give him some way of marking the time. Well, Halloween has come and gone and the boy is wondering what's up. "Are you ready to go to the hospital and push Aubrey out yet, Mommy?" he asks. Oh yeah, buddy, Mommy's ready--now can you please convince your sister that it's time?!
I've done everything I know to do to keep myself busy until this kid arrives. I've washed all of her clothes. The nursery is complete. I've done all my Christmas shopping. I've filled holes and touched up paint in my master bedroom. I've organized Aiden's closet. I've scrubbed all of my kitchen appliances and cabinet fronts down with a Mr. Clean Magic Eraser. I've updated the blog and even gave it a face lift. I've done Sudoku puzzles galore and ran errands. I did a mass search for all of the mates to those socks I've had piled on top of the dryer for the last year. If this kid doesn't come soon, I'm going to have to organize my clothing by color and sleeve length!
I know, I know, she'll be here soon, yadda yadda yadda. I should be patient. I should want my baby to come when she's ready. OK, whatever. I'm just tired of waddling like a duck; tired of trying on 4 pair of shoes before I find ones I can stuff my feet into; tired of breathing like an 80-year-old who just completed a marathon when all I did was hoist myself off the couch and go to the kitchen for a glass of water. Petty complaints, I know. But did I mention how impatient I am?
OK, I'm off to clean out my refrigerator and organize my pantry....