Just for a little bit of background to this post…I hate waiting. Not that I believe I’m massively impatient but waiting makes nervous and at times, panicky. When I have to wait, the tumbleweeds in my head get replaced with thoughts of impending doom, boredom turns into panic and I rapidly turn into a crazy lady that starts to believe the world is going to be on the receiving end of a massive natural disaster because her bus is 5 minutes late.
I have
recently found that those close to me are really not being very helpful in
allowing me to cope with my currently predicament…
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So at the time of writing this, I am 38
weeks. At my last midwife appointment, I
was told the baby was fully engaged and it was ‘just a matter of time’. This statement made me have a minor panic
attack and seemed to send all of my loved ones into a tizzy; suddenly almost everybody
had an opinion on when the baby needs to be born.
Baby is due on the 26th
August (UK late August bank holiday) but here’s an overview of people’s
thoughts:
Terry wants the baby to be a few days
late so he’s born into the next school year; the widespread theory being that
children who are the youngest in their school year are at somewhat of a disadvantage
over their classmates. So I would
be giving little man a better shot at his education if I just ‘cross my legs
and hold him in’
My mum is going to China for a couple of
weeks after baby is due, so for her baby needs to be on time or early. I
received a text last night asking where her Grandson was. I told her to check behind the sofa.
As far as my dad is concerned, the baby
can be born up to a week and a half early, but not before as he’s in Devon on a
golfing weekend.
My brother and sister-in-law are currently
in New York; baby can only come a week early and not a day sooner.
Terry’s maternal Grandfather – over from
the Isle of Wight for a visit, baby needs to be early as the due date is 2 days
after he’s due to go back
Terry’s brother has told us that the baby
isn’t allowed to be born the day after his due date, as he’s ‘not sharing his
birthday with anybody’. 2 days late is fine.
I’m also dealing with well-meaning questions
such as “is the house is ready?”, “do you have everything?”, “is your hospital
bag packed?” but then rather short-sightedly get told that I should be “taking
things easy”, “not tiring myself out”, “relaxing and enjoying the peace and
quiet”. Well, shit, I haven’t suddenly developed magical abilities that enables
me to sit on my arse, relax and do nothing but at the same time, do the housework,
shopping, get prepared for the birth and little man’s homecoming. Nor do I have
a couple of bitch-servants to do my bidding. So I guess that leaves me…
Me?
Given my boredom, anxiety and general level of discomfort – I say the
sooner the better. As I type this, I
have chronic heartburn, my hips are killing me and the right side of my torso
is sticking out two inches further that my left.
Oh, I take that back. Little man is now ‘shaking that ass’ and
attempting to break my ribs.
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