I remember talking to a friend last year at the end of her pregnancy. There were some issues going on at work, and she confessed to me that she was working at 50% and just didn’t have the mental capacity to deal with the issues. (So, she wasn’t worrying about them until after her maternity leave.)
Now I completely understand. I feel as if I’m at 50% now. I am not used to this feeling, and I don’t really care for it! I forget everything and I feel unreliable. And I struggle to make sense of things that before I would have easily understood. Like, can you explain one more time how to use these cloth diapers? Why are such simple concepts beyond my grasp?
Tomorrow marks 36 weeks, which to be honest terrifies me. I do *not* feel ready at all. I panic because I feel that I have so much to do before the baby comes. Like find a pediatrician. And figure out where we’re going to live. And figure out how much money I want to spend to get my cat to feel better from this unknown illness he seems to have. And figure out where in my apartment to put all this wonderful baby stuff I have, because we keep tripping over it and injuring ourselves. And reply to emails as people are bugging me that I haven’t responded to emails in so long. And I need to find a hotel for family to stay. And there are a few more things I need to buy for the baby. Oh! And it would be really good to finally decide on a name for her; I just can’t decide and I’m tired of thinking about it. And I still haven’t really decided anything about labor, but I need to be doing the exercises that I’ve been taught in my birth class and mostly I am so so so scared of the pain and I feel like I’m looking into a torture chamber and I’d rather just skip this altogether. And a teeny part of me wishes none of this happened, that everything would go just back to how they used to be, when my body was still mine and it was just me and Paul, because I know I’ll love this kid but right now I just can’t grasp how that love will make the torture chamber worth it.
Ack! I am panicking just thinking about everything.
Sorry there. The firstborn in me – the planner, the organizer, the type-A perfectionist, is coming out loud and clear. And the very emotional side of me is also coming through equally as much. NOT liking 3rd trimester Ashley. (Didn’t like 1st trimester Ashley either.)
I’ll be okay. I just kinda let my thoughts get carried away. I’m scared to admit these things online because people have pat answers sometimes, and in general I like to appear as if I have everything thought out.
I am going to stop now as I see that this blog post is not turning out how I originally intended. Besides I have a long to-do list I need to tackle.