It seems to me that this pregnancy will never end! We’re in the home stretch. Twelve days to go and counting the seconds until our little one arrives. This will be my love’s first child and he doesn’t necessarily understand how miserable the last trimester can be! He is quite worried that I don’t want this child and that this whole pregnancy has been nothing but a burden. I try to assure him I am just impatient to meet my little boy! Besides feeling like my hips are going to come apart, we’re good!
Truthfully, I think because I am several years older, closer to thirty than twenty, my body is protesting. I don’t remember hurting quite as bad with my first two daughters. The again, it could all be in my head! I’m not anywhere near as big as I was with my first two. Our midwife keeps telling me I’ve only gained five whole stinkin‘ pounds, I think she is hallucinating sometimes, it doesn’t feel like that. I feel like I’ve gained at least one hundred!
At thirty-five weeks pregnant, I went into false labor and they put me on maternity leave early from work. Now, I sit and twiddle my thumbs waiting impatiently for my bundle of joy. Not a contraction to speak of. It’s very frustrating! My first daughter was twenty minutes early, my second daughter was seven days late, and I wanted to cry by the end of that ordeal. I am hoping that my little one will not be a late comer!
So, I sit here impatiently trying to remind myself that patience is a virtue. While screaming like a little kid inside, “Come out already!”