We saw our midwife on Tuesday, and after telling her some of the developments of the weekend, and seeing how low I’ve dropped she surmised that the baby would be coming “any day”. But that’s probably what they say to everyone, to stop them getting fed up. But I’ve been monitoring everything that’s happening with baited breath waiting for the arrival. Nothing yet. (Obviously).
I’ve had pains, they feel a bit like tightenings, so I’m assuming they’re Braxton Hicks. I’ve felt sick as a dog on Friday and then again today – yet another sign of early labour – or just plain bad luck? But nothing else seems to be happening. I’m now just about giving up the expectation of a pre-40 week delivery and am accepting my fate that it’ll be taking a bit longer.
I feel ready. I’m not scared any more. I want to meet our baby, but I don’t feel impatient yet – I’m not at the “get this baby out of me” stage. I’m possibly not far off – I’ve had a couple of bad nights of not being able to get comfortable, being too hot, then too cold, it hurting like hell when I turn over, and the back pain…. well it hurts. A lot. But giving birth is going to hurt a hell of a lot more, so I won’t moan about things too much, just yet.
I’m ignoring the chaos of the house. I’ve spent the weekend at my parents to get away from the dust, and the non-working bathroom situation – it’s been a nice break. I overdid things a little yesterday, going to a wedding and then going camera shopping. I was on the verge of tears at my back pain in the camera shop – just holding it together by a thread. But I managed to “man up” and keep it calm, hobble down to the market to get my Salted Caramel Brownie, and some treats for the kids (we won’t tell them they’re from me, they’ll think I’ve gone soft). Phil was an angel (as always) and went to get the car while I did that, so he could pick me up and we could get straight off.