It’s been a week – don’t have a fit.
Thirty-five weeks pregnant, Easter and my dad’s visit behind us (sadly my brother couldn’t get his proper ID in time to come across the border). Saw the doctor today and I haven’t gained any weight (well, unless you count .1 kg as gain) since my last appointment. Unfortunately, my doctor could not find the baby’s head. We know it has one but we cannot seem to locate it. So unless it turns around or makes its location very obvious by next Wednesday, I’ll be having yet another ultrasound. I do agree with the logic – no sense going into labour and being ready to deliver if the baby is breech or transverse. Of course, I in NO way want to have a c-section. Having been through labour three times and having seen friends recover from sections, I’d way rather go through the labour and delivery. I generally feel like a million bucks the day after giving birth – no sense changing that now.
I’m also dealing with my good old friends from late pregnancy: heartburn, tiny bladder, compressed stomach (read: the need to eat less at one sitting but more often), nerve pinching, breathlessness and dizziness. Not thrilled about any of that. Oh, yeah, and depression. It could just be my dad being here for such a short time and going home already (he was here from Friday afternoon to Sunday morning), but I am so down this week. I feel friendless and alone and overwhelmed by my physical state and the needs of my children. I want to escape but if I do that I just end up by myself somewhere. I don’t really want to be by myself – I want to be with Mike or a friend. I like solitude but it hardly feels worth it anymore because my energy levels are so low. A nice chat or visit with someone else makes me feel a bit better, but being all alone with nothing better to do than read a book or go grocery shopping actually makes me feel worse. I look forward to a new baby to pour myself into – and then summer!
Summers are always easier here; parks are a great way to get the kids out and usually visit with someone (generally my sister-in-law). It will be a bit more challenging with a new baby to cart around, but well worth it, I’m sure. And when I do need a bit of time to myself, there’s a good chance I’ll be able to leave the three older kids with someone and go out with just the baby. I never mind taking my little ones along for the first nine months to a year – other than quick trips, they always come with me.
Anyway, I know it’s not far away, but five weeks does still feel like a long time, especially since I could actually be two weeks late before my doctor would induce me. Seven weeks feels absolutely ridiculous, although it’s highly unlikely it will be that long.