Today is a weird place. It is my 39th week. By Sunday, there should be a baby out of me and screaming in my face. By Sunday, dammit! If I go past Sunday… well, you will all hear about it on the five o’clock news. We won’t talk about that here, because that is not happening.
What is happening? I have no friggin clue. The closer I get to my due date, the more I keep expecting to have some kind of huge, impending feeling of mom-ness. But that has not arrived. At my OB appointment last week, my doctor told me I wasn’t effaced or dilated at all yet.
But she said I could still go at any time. I just apparently have a stubborn cervix. That is one part of me that I could go my whole life without having it described as “stubborn”.
Knowing that I’m coming to the end of this whole shit show isn’t helping me to feel like I am anywhere near the end, though. The week before our wedding, I was a basket case. A complete zombie. There are big chunks of that week that I don’t remember, either because I was so tired and wasn’t fully awake when things happened, or my brain blocked certain memories to protect Future Me from ending up in an asylum. A lot of that was because I procrastinate like it’s my job. Not a great quality. But not something I think is going to change anytime soon because, well, I don’t feel like it right now.
At this moment, I still have crap all over the nursery that I need to finish putting away. I still have some baby laundry to do. I still haven’t hung anything on the walls in the nursery, or finished the little crafty things I had set out to do to make it cute and awesome. And I don’t feel any sense of urgency to get these things finished, because even though I could go into labor at any minute, it does not feel like it. At all. Which leads me to believe that maybe he’s not coming this week, because shouldn’t I be nesting or some shit like that right now?
Adam and I spent this past weekend doing, pretty much, bupkis. He had the day off on Friday, and we went in for my “How huge is the baby?” ultrasound. (Huge.) And then we went to my OB appointment. And with a large part of the day left, we decided to drive over an hour away, to another state, for hotdogs. There are hotdogs in the state we reside in. There are hotdogs in walking distance of our house. But we crossed a border for really great hotdogs. Adults. Then we saw The Dark Knight Rises. Saturday, we went to a picnic for Adam’s work. And yesterday, we went to lunch with my family, and then we napped forever, and then we put away some of the nursery stuff.
There were moments where I felt pretty irresponsible and frustrated about how unproductive what was probably our last weekend without a baby turned out to be. But then I realized that this was really, really, really, probably, our last weekend without a baby. It was our last weekend, just me and my husband. It was the last weekend for the rest of our lives that we aren’t parents. And then I felt like we spent the weekend in the best way that we could have. We relaxed. We had fun. We enjoyed each other and spent a ton of time just hanging out. I don’t know when the next time will be that we will decide to go see a movie, just because we have a couple hours left to burn in our day.
All the stuff that isn’t done, really isn’t a huge deal. And it will probably get done, for the most part, at some point that isn’t too far away. Will there be cute little pennant garland on the wall above the baby’s crib? Maybe not. But the only person who is going to give a crap, is me. And I will be too tired to give even the tiniest shit about things like that for a while. Am I going to cry about this at some point soon? Most likely. I’m hormonal as all hell. But now we have some memories of a really nice weekend before we became parents, where we were just Adam and Sara. That’s more important to me than crossing “Put contact paper down in the dresser drawers” off my To Do list.