Today, I am 30 weeks pregnant.
I will meet my baby girl in around ten weeks, give or take a few.
Time, it seems, is going both lightning speed and excruciatingly slow. I have a million and one things to do before she gets here, but my body is screaming at me to GET HER OUT.
My mind mimics my body. I absolutely love with every fiber of my being feeling her roll and stretch inside my womb. I also desperately want to feel normal again, despite knowing that even after I give birth, there will be a completely new “normal” to embrace.
You know those people who say they loooooove being pregnant? I would pay a decent chunk of change to feel what that feels like right about now. I had a golden week or two, right as the first trimester was wrapping up, when I had a cute little belly, the all-day hangover was subsiding, and I felt like a million bucks. And then the swelling hit. Which led to the 24/7 severe carpal tunnel. And all of a sudden, my bladder felt like it was falling out of my body. I never got a shot at that second trimester “glow”.
The third trimester, like clockwork, brought back pain that keeps me up at night, as well as the feeling that I’ve been kicked swiftly in the groin by a ninja. Baby also thinks that any time I adjust in bed equals *PARTY TIME!!*, so that definitely helps with the whole insomnia thing. And the kicker – a diagnosis of gestational diabetes this week, meaning I can no longer drown my sorrows in ice cream and In N Out like every respectable preggo should.
So here I am, struggling to move forward to get ready for baby, in what feels like quicksand. One step forward, two steps back. How do I live in this space, where everything I’ve prayed for is finally happening, but I can’t escape the feeling of being held back from basking in the joy of a dream realized?
Yes, I have been throwing myself quite the pathetic pity party. Don’t worry, I still find ways to come up for air. When I get a text or call from a friend or family member, checking in. When yet another gift arrives for baby girl from a well wisher. When I think about just how amazing it will be to finally hold her in my arms. When she kicks me to remind me, hey, Mom, I’m here. Remember?
Yesterday, I was wallowing even more, due to our replacement dresser for the nursery from Buy Buy Baby arriving just as damaged as the original (#firstworldproblems, I know, I know). I was down about my GD diagnosis, and this was just the cherry on top of my non-existent sundae. I had these grand plans of starting to wash and fold and put away all the adorable little clothes we’ve already stockpiled, and here I was, at yet another roadblock.
Today, at the encouragement of my ever looking on the bright side husband, I decided I didn’t NEED the dresser to get shit done. So I put on my big girl panties and did my first load of baby laundry. I put on some Disney music (Mia better be a Disney lover; she’s getting a Disney nursery and I’ve been playing songs for her nonstop) and got to work. Before long, I had a massive pile of clothes ready to wash and fold. And that’s when it hit me. This wave of gratitude washed over me, and I stood by the crib and sobbed. How grateful am I? Who cares if my hands hurt, or I can barely walk, or I can’t eat french fries for a while. I’m not thinking about any of those things when I’m focusing on getting ready for my little girl.
So this is what 30 weeks looks like. Hot mess, cranky, can’t breathe, falling apart, so tired, deliriously happy pregnant.