The thing I remember most vividly from being 35 weeks with Baby Sweet 2015, was that I was ready for her to come. Really ready. To the point where, despite what everyone told me, I was hoping she’d be early. At 35 weeks I didn’t think I could physically carry a baby any bigger than the one in my stomach, I literally had no shoes but a new pair of big gray Ugg’s that fit over my swollen feet, and all of the fun perks of pregnancy, the maternity clothes, cravings, excuses to Netflix and do nothing, were gone. My maternity clothes were too small. I could barely fit any food in my stomach and relaxing on the couch was excrutiatingly uncomfortable.
When my doctor refused to induce me until I was a week overdue, I complained to everyone who’d listen, especially my doctor. I never made it a week overdue–she arrived a dramatic two days late.
I would love for those extra two days this time. Instead I’ll be cut a week short because of a scheduled c-section (my doctor lives to oppose me). And I’m not ready. Not just because we don’t even have a place for him to sleep, but because the sleepless nights, worrying about them eating enough, constant checking on them at night–that’s all fresh. It wasn’t that long ago–less than two years–that we did that with Baby Sweet 2015. And I still remember.
But the not-ready mentality is a huge part of having kids that people overthink. People often wait too long for the ‘right time.’ There is no right time. As much as I thought I was ready with Baby Sweet 2015, I was really only ready to not be pregnant anymore. I was not ready to be a mom. If you’re not a parent, it’s the same as jumping into an ice cold pool. How do you prepare? You just have to trust that, while it’s going to be a shock, you’ll survive, you’ll get used to it and you’ll be extremely proud that you did it. Some will want to do it every year. Some will only want to do it once.
Three things have really stood out to me about this pregnancy, especially now that I’m in the 35-week homestretch. I’ve been able to really maintain my fitness, to the point where I still feel good running as far as 6 miles at what I would consider a decent pregnancy pace. The whole pregnancy has gone by much faster. Much, much faster. I’m pretty sure John still thinks I’m in my first trimester. And it’s been way more exhausting. But that’s directly related to chasing a toddler.
So, with 4 weeks to go, what do we still have left to do?
Choose a name. This is a huge point of contention between John and I. I liked the names Wyatt and Alex. He likes the name Hank. We’ve been calling him Hank. There’s absolutely no way we’ll come up with a name before he comes.
Buy a crib. With our move coming up (maybe), we haven’t created a second nursery. Instead, he’ll sleep in our room for the month or so before we leave (if that’s even still our timeline, I currently know as much as you do). I’ve been researching co-sleepers so he’s not actually in bed with us, but I keep falling into the bad review trap. One one-star review outweighs about 200 5 stars. So no crib.
Plan the family schedule. John did this independently for his parents and scheduled them to come out a couple days before the baby comes. Now I have to figure out how to fit my two sets of parents in around the holidays, the move (?) and my maternity leave.
The gear. What did babies do in the early part of the last century without 15 glass bottles, $30 packs of organic disposable diapers, a onesie for every day of the year and a teddy bear to go with them? Babies today need all this stuff. They must have a new bottle for every feeding, 5 different butt pastes and a stack of advanced alphabet books. Seriously though, we just went through this baby phase, and we still have things to buy. This is why it costs so much to have kids. We need to get back to the days of whittling our own wooden toys and using one cloth diaper.*
*I lied. The thought of reusable diapers is too much for me.
House hunt. Oh, that’s right, we were supposed to get orders to John’s next duty station MONTHS ago. We were supposed to move before the baby came. I was supposed to use my last 3 vacation days to house hunt in Virginia Beach. Luckily, all of these things will be much easier with a toddler AND a newborn. I can already see what’s going to happen. We’re going to end up in a panic-one-bedroom apartment for the next three years.
And, finally, some 35-week stats.
Cravings. Mud pie. I want that beautiful coffee ice cream, cookie crumble, whipped cream tower of savory fudge. Just a bite. And egg salad. On sourdough. None of the kale or green juice that I was craving before.
Clothes. It’s finally cold enough that I’m hanging up my Mormon dresses. I splurged on a pair of black maternity jeans, a gray chambray shirt and some maternity tees, but my staple are my old Target maternity running tights, which I’ve been wearing as leggings to work, Monday-Friday. Nothing else fits over my bump without turning into an unseasonable and inappropriate crop top.
Sleep. Is actually coming easier this week (minus last night, but who could sleep while the biggest upset in election history was happening?). I haven’t been waking up as much as I have been. But when I do, it’s because of stomach cramps, heartburn (I actually threw up once it was so bad) and leg cramps. And just because I haven’t been waking up doesn’t mean I’m rested. I’m falling asleep at my desk by 3pm.
Work/Commute. This is completely miserable. I have zero brain power anymore. So you can imagine how hard it is to be an analyst. The more I sit the worse I feel. I can’t focus. And I’ve been having to get coffee, real coffee, in the afternoons because I actually think I might fall asleep. Then there’s the drive. Traffic has been awful and it’s been taking longer and longer to get to work and get home. I’m so uncomfortable in the car and so tired at the end of the day that it’s only a matter of time before I have to start pulling over to nap. I don’t know what to do about this, since the baby’s daycare is by my work, nowhere near our house.
Weight Gain. I’ve gained about the same amount of weight as last time. I’m officially up 25 pounds, which doesn’t mean that much to me, since I still feel strong and fit. I’m not focusing on gaining more, just letting my body do it naturally. (Ignore the cravings section above).
Hormones. This hasn’t been an issue for me. Thank. Goodness. John may think otherwise. Secretly. He could never tell me.