Still pregnant and a mish-mash of thoughts.

As of this evening, I am officially more pregnant than I have ever been. Which isn't a crazy statement to make - just an observation that with Elle, I was 39.5 weeks pregnant when I delivered. I am now 39.5 weeks pregnant and Wesley isn't showing signs of arriving any time soon.

I wish I could say that I was enjoying these final days of being pregnant, but to be honest, I am a planner, and I am impatient. I have been been on maternity leave for a week and am not happy that I am on leave sans newborn. I don't want to rush the boy, but I certainly thought he'd be out by now. Physically and mentally, I think it's good that I went on leave when I did. But now I'm thinking that each day I'm off without the baby means I'll have to go back to work when he is that much younger. Our induction is set for Monday, and I don't think I'll make it to then, but then again, I didn't think I'd still be pregnant now, either. At my appointment yesterday I showed signs of progress - baby's head is still high (as Elle's was until the end), but I'm dilated 2 cm and 20% effaced, making me favorable for the induction but also giving me some sense of hope that he might just come on his own sooner. With every round of painful contractions, I tell myself that maybe the pain now means a faster, easier time at delivery (if you don't agree, keep it to yourself because that's all that's getting me through these days).

Dr. S. made the comment that he had delivered someone "just like me" on the night before my appointment. I wanted to clarify, to ask if that meant she was fat, anxious, impatient, grew large babies or if it was her second child and she wasn't showing any sign of being dilated or effaced, but I figured I'd just leave his comment alone and not go there. He added that she was a week and a half overdue, and I told him that I was struggling to remind myself that I am not yet overdue. In fact, I am in a perfectly normal range for still being pregnant, and just because I assumed or expected anything different doesn't mean that I SHOULD have this baby any sooner. I'm still not super excited about being induced, but at the same time, I think for my mental well-being it might be for the best, and if it improves my chances of being able to deliver vaginally again then I'm OK with that, too.

I'm getting all sorts of comments about how I must be ready to pop. My favorite thing about these conversations is that after I confirm that yes, I am just about ready, people insist on engaging me in drawn out stories about their own experiences, whether it be personal or their wife's or daughter's or neighbor's or whatever. I'm 39.5 weeks pregnant, people, large, uncomfortable and often with a toddler. I don't feel like standing around making polite small talk. I'm sorry, but I have no patience, and even if I did, you wouldn't be getting any of it right now. We normally do our shopping for the week on Saturdays, but since I keep hoping that I might be in labor and not available to make dinner on any given day, I've basically shopped day by day this week. The grocery store employees love me.

Physically, I could be very much in worse shape. I'm working out a lot more now that I'm not working, and although I have some mega lower back pain, joint aches and swelling, I've been blessed with a pretty easy pregnancy. Not as easy as my first one, but not nearly as bad as it could be. My hands are very stiff now - I can't close my right hand in a fist in the morning any more, and gripping anything is either very painful or impossible. The same thing happened in my last few weeks of my first pregnancy. My hips are loose and I am getting weird muscle cramps in my upper thighs - things that aren't helped by my insistence to continue full speed ahead (and then some) on cleaning, running errands, etc.

Today was the first day of leave that I really took it "easy," and it was largely because I way overdid it yesterday and had some mammoth pain last night. It was also due to the fact that I didn't fall asleep until 4:30 a.m. and took a long afternoon nap with Elle, which didn't leave much time for scrubbing doors, doing dishes or vacuuming cobwebs from every crevice in the house. And while I've been very productive during my leave, I'm still left feeling nauseous at times, dealing with a lack of appetite, digestive issues, and general soreness that comes with trying to take care of an active toddler (i.e. I have a hard time heaving myself around to chase after her, contorting myself to try to wash her hair in the bathtub, lifting her, etc.).

This past weekend would have been a perfect time for Wesley to be born, which is probably why he decided he didn't like that plan. Tim was off for three days, we had sitters lined up for each day, and I had a good feeling about each date. But alas, nothing. I find that whenever we have the perfect situation in place, I have no signs of labor, but if there are any wrinkles/obstacles/complications, I get all sorts of signs and contractions and wonder if NOW is the time.

We did take advantage of the newbornless time to spend some quality family time together, getting little outings in with Elle on each day that likely won't happen for a while after Wesley is born. I don't think I would have gone on some of these adventures solo, but with Tim there to help with Elle it made everything much more manageable (and reminded/scared me of the fact that we're going to be parenting not one but two children on opposite shifts, which means solo duty and little overall family time, which always makes me sad - so I'm not going to think about it right now).

Elle's new thing is to "tell" us secrets. Basically she just whispers gibberish or mouths words.

Baseball game on Saturday night!

To the park several times - solo with Mommy on Thursday morning,
then family outing on Sunday evening.

A new-to-us indoor bounce play area on Monday morning -
we went before a lot of older kids showed up, and Elle had a lot of fun.

Elle will be going to daycare part-time while I'm on leave, which adds up to about 11 hours a week. I think this will be good for her, to maintain some sense of her "normal," and for me and Wesley, to have a few hours a week for one-on-one time. Today was one of the days that Elle didn't go to daycare, so we headed to story time at the library, took a long afternoon nap and baked brownies together.

Mmmm, brownies.

I'm squeezing in every special memory-making moment together that I can before her little brother arrives, and some of the stuff that we've done (the trips to the park, the bounce house, story time, etc.) are things that Tim and/or I can continue doing with her after Wesley is here, to give her special one-on-one time with us.

I've also used my non-baby-occupied leave time to be productive - I have been getting stuff done around the condo, wrapping up some projects and resting. But now I'm getting stir crazy. And too large and tired to do much. And irritable. And anxious. Tim said he's mystified by how I can be anxious/worried/upset about so many things and keep them all straight. What can I say? A life time of practice. He's trying to assure me that worrying about things won't change what happens - how/when Wesley arrives, how Elle will react, how my body will respond, etc. But it doesn't keep me from thinking about it when it's 3:30 a.m. and I can't sleep, again. I'm an emotional mess - at night, when I've had some significantly painful yet highly inconsistent contractions, I think about how I might spend the next few nights in the hospital, away from Elle. I think about the possibility of a c-section. I try to think positively, regarding the contractions as progress in the end game of delivering this baby. I try to not wish away the last days of this pregnancy, but when I have a foot wedged in my rib cage or a dance party in my pelvis, it's not comforting. I get calls/texts asking if I've had the baby yet. I'll let you imagine my reaction to those inquiries. I feel like I've packed my hospital bag so long ago that I'll likely never need it. I worry that I won't remember what the "real deal" contractions will feel like. I worry that my baby will be 25 inches long and weigh 10 pounds.

I think having the experience of my pregnancy/delivery with Elle has allowed my mind to make assumptions, comparisons, even, as to what we should expect with this pregnancy. With Elle, EVERYTHING was unknown. I should have just continued operating like that instead of imagining how/when Wesley might arrive, but again, I am a planner, and this is how my mind works.

In the end, I know - I KNOW - it will all work out. I won't be pregnant forever. Elle won't hate us for turning her world upside down with a sibling. I'll sleep again (some day). Being this large and uncomfortable will one day be a distant memory. The next few weeks will go quickly as we all work to adjust to our new normal. I had similar frustrations/fears/unknowns when I was pregnant with Elle, and she arrived, we survived and we can't imagine life without her.

I'm just ready to start the next chapter - our life as a family of four.