September 18, 2014

38 Weeks

The crib is set up. The pack-n-play, too (because our room is small to put the crib in there, so her crib stayed in her room while her pack-n-play is going to be in our room while she's sleeping with us). I've taken the diaper box out (old diapers from J, they don't expire you know) and stored it in her room along with my personal nursing things. I've washed her "just enough" amount of clothes (we still need to get her some winter clothes, she only has mostly onesies and footed sleepers haha!), folded and tucked them neatly away.

My planner has been filled since last Sunday to the day before she's due to come - things I need to do/clean/prepare (freezer meals, anyone?) before the big day - if she does wait 'til that day. The hospital bag lay open on her crib, waiting to be filled with last items like toiletries or cellphone chargers. The rechargeable batteries have been collected and are now being charged for future repeated use (crib mobile, swing, vibrating chair, toys, etc).

I look at my planner and see that on a particular day, I have to clean this and that because it will probably be months before I get to do it again (*cough* the oven, for example, which was, and still is, really dirty when we moved in). "Ooh, maybe sterilize her bottles on this day so it's not so far away from her due date." Clean the bathrooms, clean the shower, clean the windows and glass doors (also dirty when we moved in, like it hasn't been cleaned for more than a year), clean the vents (also dirty when we moved in. They can actually catch on fire easily with the amount of dust stuck in them), clean the floors, etc. I am nesting, my heart and spirit are willing but my body isn't.

I am big. Well, at least my belly is big. I can't find a comfortable position anymore. Not sitting up, not lying down, and definitely not standing up. I can't count how many times I almost fell trying to go downstairs just because I can no longer see where I'm stepping at, and most of the time it's when I walked my son to school.

Yes, walk. I hate it now because it hurts me. Well at least I hate it FOR NOW while I'm in pain doing it, but I like the short moment it gives me each way to be with my boys and not anything else. Plus it's like a forced kind of exercise before I give birth, walking to and from school five days a week.

Sleeping is a pain. Literally. I've been having a lot of Braxton Hicks lately and aside from having to wake up every 30 minutes or so to go pee, sometimes the Braxton Hicks keep me up an hour or two a stretch on the nights that it visits me. I just look at it this way: I can go back to sleep right away. With a newborn, that's not the case. Especially if you're the one with the food supply. So for now I'll take the pains and discomfort and cherish how I actually have it easier right now.

It's kind of nerve-wracking thinking that next weekend is my last weekend with just our two boys and then our lives will change again. She'll join our small family and my routine will be thrown off. To be honest, I have mixed feelings at the moment. Knowing how I've been with my first two children, I am scared that I will be the same when she comes. You know, the baby blues. Emotional roller coaster, constant sickness (I think it was mastitis though I was never diagnosed because I never went to see a doctor each time I got sick), loneliness, fatigue, etc. The whole package.

And J. I wish I could spend more time alone with him now that his older brother is in school. I've enjoyed the short time (a month by the time I give birth) of alone time I've had with him - something we never really had since he was born. It made our bond stronger as a mother and son. I got to know him more. I wish I could do more for him - take him to places, run with him (I can't), play more "boyish" stuff with him, read comfortably with him, explore this new State we live in with him - now that we have the chance to be together, just me and him. But I can't. I am limited to my limited amount of daily strength that I need to share with all of my boys/man. At times I want this just-me-and-J-time to last longer - a couple of months more or so with me in full capacity to do a lot more than I can now with him - to make up for the three years that he hardly had any chance to spend one-on-one time with me. But that's not possible. How am I ever going to give him that alone-time attention again that he just barely got? I think in some ways I'm not ready to give it up just yet.

But despite all these fears and anxiety, along with the unknown of raising a daughter (it really feels like being a first-time parent all over again), I am ecstatic to meet our little girl. I am excited to hold her, to smell her, to let her share her innocence with me, with her Dad, and her brothers. I am excited to let her feel she is loved, and to feel her love as well. So many good things in store as she grows up with her brothers. What a blessing she is to us. C is very excited to meet her. He gives my belly kisses and hugs more than five times a day, and whispers, "I love you baby sister!" Lately he's been pretending that she answers him with, "I love you too!" J is now slightly aware he's about to have a baby sister, but still kind of oblivious to it. I'm surely gonna miss him a lot when she comes, the same way I missed C when he came. But I am ready and excited to welcome our daughter into this world.

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