Thursday, August 12, 2010

36 Weeks

Three weeks from today, I will be in the hospital, having my baby. Wow.

I am both terrified and excited beyond words.

The terror is the usual stuff, of course, coupled with the stress of the house situation. I think the thing I'm most worried about with labor itself is my expectations. You see, I went into my first labor with basically none. I tried to write up a birth plan, but realized that I had no frame of reference for what I would want/need and so I just went with the flow. (The nurses were probably big fans - especially since I didn't end up having a dedicated L&D nurse... very weird situation.) I ended up having a very reasonable time of it all. Especially after all the horror stories you hear about Pitocin. But I know that while logically there is no guarantee that things will go the same, in the back of my mind, I expect that it WILL all be the same and that I know what to expect, etc. Also, I'm not really looking forward to that whole intense, heavy labor pains thing... but then, who does?

And what on earth do I do with a boy? He has different parts! And I can't put him in ruffles! We still have to decide whether to, ahem, circumsize or not...

There is a good chance that things will be fine with the house - or at least that the main room will be back to normal long before then and things can start to feel a little more normal... But it's looking like the room might be complete enough to have us move in and we can actually have it all ready for the baby when he comes home. Wouldn't it be lover-ly?

The excitement is, of course, somewhat obvious, too. I'm having a much longed for baby! He'll be the first grandson on both sides, the first nephew, and obviously, the first SON for Daddy Fuss and I! I'm looking forward to having him in my arms.

My feet were very thick Wednesday morning - even putting on my Birkenstocks was a challenge! I'm not sleeping well (punctuated by Fuss's nighttime wakings) and it's hard to find comfortable positions at any time. The Braxton Hicks are occurring frequently enough that they are driving me nuts, but irregular enough that I know I'm not in labor. I have the occasional one that is painful enough that I am convinced that it is productive, at least!

So, nervous and excited. Big surprise, right?

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