|39 weeks, 2 days. And so done.|
I have reached new depths of exhaustion that I didn't know existed. I pee an average of 5 times a night. If I don't get up from bed or my desk chair every 30-45 minutes, I become so stiff and sore that it takes me a solid 8 minutes to walk about 30 feet.
But the worst part? It's the loneliness. I've mostly been keeping my misery to myself because I know how lucky I am that a) I am pregnant at all, b) it has been a pretty textbook pregnancy, and c) this baby is able to stay inside me until 41 weeks if it would like which is ultimately probably the best for the baby. So I feel like I don't have a right to complain. Instead, I bury it deep inside and tell everyone I feel pretty good. If I do mention that I'm ready to be not pregnant, I typically don't elaborate because I know no one really wants to hear me whine.
I had an appointment yesterday. In spite of attempting to do all the things that are supposed to encourage dilation... I'm still not. In spite of walking so much on Halloween that I literally had to crawl up the steps on hands and knees because my back hurt way too much to stand up straight--not a damn thing. It just feels like my body is failing me. I REALLY want to experience going into labor on my own, but I also REALLY want my doctor to deliver my baby. I feel like I've been trying to race the clock because he leaves Saturday and I know that with my luck this baby will decide on Saturday afternoon it's ready. On the flip side, the thought of having to suffer physically like this for another 12 days is devastating. I'm having such a hard time focusing because I am so drained. I can't really do much with the kids because every movement sends a stabbing pain through my back and pelvis.
I cried for probably three hours yesterday afternoon and evening and I'm not even sure why. I finally told Jon that I felt lonely and miserable and when I told him my reasons for not wanting to talk about it he told me that just because other people have different struggles than I do doesn't mean I don't have a right to struggle as well. He said that he figures most women feel physically done the way I do at the end of their pregnancies but don't talk about it, so I don't feel like I can talk about it either. I obviously don't know whether this is true, but this is me talking about it. I'm feeling selfish. I'm feeling frustrated. I'm angry at my body for apparently not knowing how to go into labor on its own. And that's okay. I'm allowed to not be loving every second of this. I need to extend myself some grace and learn to let go because dwelling on the arrival of this baby isn't going to change anything. But it's so hard.