Monday 12 August 2013

The wait...



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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