Wednesday, September 07, 2011

36w3d

Well. Here we are, fast approaching 37wks, when LO is considered to be 'at term'.
If I'm honest, it still doesn't feel real. I've washed the bits and pieces of clothes for her, the crib is ready and the buggy arrived yesterday.
This is a very weird feeling. I'd be lying if I said I wasn't just waiting for it all to go wrong.
I still feel like I'm pretending at being pregnant. (Although my ever-growing bump might dispute that...) Or at least pretending that everything is ok.
It's strange to be able to chat to people about our impending new arrival without seeing sympathy and pity in their eyes.
Strange to think that the biggest concern at the moment is whether she is breech or not.
Strange to be talking about plans for Charlie's birthday and Christmas, and including the baby in those plans.
This is an unprecedented experience for me - preparing for a baby who, God willing, in all likelihood and according to all the doctors, will be born well and 'wonderfully boring', and be able to come home from hospital with me straight away.
I've been trying to pack my hospital bag and I'm really struggling.
I find myself wanting to pack lots of stuff for me, in the expectation that I'll be stuck in hospital for weeks with a sick baby. Equally, I'm finding it hard to know how much to take for LO - with Will, we took one outfit and that was it.
And, though it's quite hard to admit, I'm finding it hard to let go of the tentative baby funeral plans that have been bubbling around my brain since I got a positive pregnancy test back in January.
I know people who haven't been in our situation find that hard to stomach, and probably think I'm being over-dramatic.
I can already imagine all the 'You can't think like that; don't be stupid; you have to be positive' responses.
But I can't.
I just can't shake off my usual habit of expecting the worst.
Yes, I'm having fun ironing little dresses, and loving watching Charlie get more and more excited as LO's due date draws nearer and nearer.
But I still can't let myself be confident that she will be ok.
It's almost as though, if something does go wrong, I want to be able to say 'See! I was right!'
But on this occasion, I'll be very, very happy to be proved wrong.
We go back to the hospital on Friday to see how LO is getting on. Judging by my ever-increasing waistline, I'm guessing she's still growing pretty well. I'm also thinking that she may well still be breech, as I can feel something hard, round and head-like jammed up under my ribs.
I guess we will see on Friday.

Sent from my iPhone

No comments:

Post a Comment