Shoot, I can’t give this post the time and thought it requires. PJ just woke up from his nap, and I probably won’t have a free minute again the rest of the day. Oh, well. He can play in his room for ten minutes or so while I try to get a few of my feelings down anyway.
Today I am unofficially thirty-one weeks along (according to my secondary due date that is more accurate than my official one). Next Monday will be the day in the pregnancy when PJ came. I have six days to hold my breath that BabyN stays where he belongs.
Things have been better mostly. I’m not having B-H to the point of alarm anymore. I can even clean like a madwoman, like I did this afternoon, only having to pause once for a B-H. I have no real reason to suspect anything is going to happen in the next week–or even month. But I can’t help feeling this touch of fear that something will happen anyway, simply because I wouldn’t otherwise expect it.
There’s also this feeling of fear that I will continue on after next Monday, with BabyN safe inside my ginormous belly. Next Tuesday I enter uncharted territory–for me–in the pregnancy. I don’t know what to expect in those last two months of pregnancy, and I’m a bit worried that I won’t be able to tolerate it. And what if by some miracle I don’t go early at all? What if the doctor suggests inducing labor? And what if my tiny body really can’t deliver a baby bigger than those three pounds and three ounces that PJ was? In a way, I hope these become my new fears, irrational as they are. They are much better than worrying about seeing another of my children fighting in an incubator, having to go visit him every day instead of taking him home like a normal mom.
I’m hoping for a nice middle ground this time around. I have a strange feeling that this baby will make his appearance right around August 15. Why the 15th you ask (my mom did)? Both my BIL and evil SIL share that birthday. It only seems appropriate that BabyN would choose to share the birthday with his family members. It’s also just over a month early. That sounds about perfect to me. BabyN will almost certainly be born healthy, but not as huge as he would be otherwise. Besides if I’m this tired of the pregnancy now, by then I’ll probably be eager to just get him out already.
That means that it’s reasonable to think I have less than a month to go. More than a week, please God, but less than a month. If I set that as my newest temporary goal (after next Monday), I think I may just be able to make it.