It dawned on me, after several days of really poor sleep and visual migraines, (auras are a bitch, are they not?), that the source of my frustrations was entirely self perpetuated. You see, when I went in for my 37th week check up, I was in early labor. Early labor! I'd been contracting on and off for a few days, and things were starting to happen. It looked like birth was imminent. So much so that my doctor said there was a 50/50 chance that we'd have the baby in the next 7 days. A few days later, things really kicked up and it seemed like active labor was upon us. It's time! Only...it wasn't.
By the time I decided things were "real enough" to start timing, the contractions started to die down. Then they stopped, dead. We went to bed figuring things would pick up again, but they didn't. Over the next few days all the other early labor signs died off too. WTF. False labor? You sonofabitch. I felt let down. I also felt like I let my husband down, and everyone else who was waiting impatiently for me to poop the kid out. It didn't help that, knowing I was so close to my due date, I was getting more and more "when are you having that baby?!" questions from people. It was like I had somehow failed everyone, when really, everything my body was doing was completely normal. 50/50 is no guarantee, and even though I knew that, I took it as such. I allowed myself to get frustrated.
This far along, everything is made more difficult; walking is hard, sitting is uncomfortable, sleeping is a mess, everything aches and you feel incredibly stretched out and tight in your own skin. You just want it to be over, even if you aren't really sure you're ready for it to be. It's just tiring.
When I realized I was doing myself in, I stopped. I may be really over this whole huge belly in the way of every goddamn thing phase, but it is what it is. I stretched, did some yoga, and went to bed. Migraines and frustration and feeling woefully inadequacy for no rational reason at all are hardly good ways to spend ones time.
It worked. I slept pretty well for the first time in awhile. Sure, I still had to get up every 2-3 hours to pee, but when a mass of humanity is resting, head down, on your bladder, such things are to be expected. I woke up today, made a baller ass cup of coffee and decided it would be a good day for leisure and art, something I have been neglecting in the name of accomplishing "things."
This is the last little bit of time as a non parent I have, I might as well enjoy it. Screw the stupid mental games, it's time to relax.
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