It’s not even 10 am yet and I’m sitting at my new desk at work counting the seconds until it’s over. Tomorrow is my last day of work before I start maternity leave.
I feel so strange.
When I return, I will return to a promotion. It’s not the first time I’ve been promoted; I was promoted at my last job too (sort of against my will though). In this case I will just finally be getting paid for the job I’ve actually been doing for a year.
Regardless though, it’s nice to get promoted, especially since this is second time it’s happening to me during an extremely stressful time in my life; it seems like that’s when I do my best work. Most likely because I almost enjoy going to work to have something else to focus on when I have a million other things on my mind.
Which is why next week is going to be weird. At the rate I’m going, I most likely won’t have baby yet. So I will just be sitting around waiting. And not sitting around waiting in my own home where maybe I could get into some sort of organizational project, or blast music, or try a new recipe, but sitting around waiting in my parent’s house, which is much less appealing. I could work up until I literally start labor, as my doctor hasn’t instructed otherwise, but I really do think that’s pushing it. So far I’ve gained 33 pounds since the start of my pregnancy and I’m still gaining. My legs and wrists are swelling from the weight and overuse. I’m exhausted because I can’t sleep at night. They are lucky in my office that I manage to brush my teeth since I can’t really clasp my hand around the brush anymore. You should see the maneuvering I have to do to get it done. Also, this baby is getting kind of big; healthy, but big for someone my size. I’m anticipating a rather long labor, and “rest,” even if it doesn’t come in the form of actual sleep, is probably what’s best for me now in preparation for all the work I’m going to have to do.
But I know I’m going to be crawling out of my skin with boredom. I keep thinking of things I can do next week to occupy myself, but everything I’ve thought of could be crammed into one day and then I’ll still be left twiddling my thumbs.
I have two dog toys I need to patch up…that will take me all of 12 minutes. I can update my resume in preparation for a possible job search (because while I should be getting a raise, I’m not sure how substantial it will be) but, again, that won’t take long since I last updated it a few months back.
I can only read and write so much because I do get headaches after doing so for too long, and I can’t even take anything for the pain (except Tylenol which does nothing). The nursery is complete and I already put together all the baby’s contraptions. My hospital bag is packed. I made a playlist on my IPod of baby-friendly soft lullaby-ish songs (since his bassinet has an mp3 player hookup). I bought Chester a toy for when he first meets the baby so he won’t be jealous, and it’s waiting in my car.
If I could work like, half days or something, that would be the best thing for me I think. It would get me up and out of the house, but I could leave before the point of complete and utter exhaustion. The way they do the payroll here though, it’s not really feasible.
A handful of people aren’t afraid of me, but most people right now seem to be nervous that if they see me, I’m going to go into labor and have the baby right in front of them. (If only it would happen that quickly!) Anyway, as such, I haven’t been hanging out as much either.
It’s lonely. The person I care about seeing the most is right inside my tummy, but he just doesn’t seem to want to leave, even though I can tell he’s radically uncomfortable. I keep telling him if he comes out, he’ll have more space, and toys, and clothes, and friends to meet, a great fuzzy four-legged big brother, and I’ve been singing Christmas songs to him too. He seems to love it, but my guess is he’s waiting to hit at least 7 lbs before making his grand entrance to the world (he was 6 ¾ lbs on Tuesday). Also, last night my mother was reciting that rhyme about the days of the week and when babies are born. It starts, “Monday’s child is fair of face, Tuesday’s child is full of grace…” but the only two I remember are Wednesday (full of woe) and Saturday (has to work for his living). Weird, I know. But my poor little B is probably going to end up with one of those. So I’m pulling for next Wednesday.
I can always finish my Christmas shopping, even do some wrapping, bake those dog biscuits, and get Sasha washed. That should bring me to Tuesday of next week. Ugh.
Until the baby comes, I’m kind of in limbo in regard to EVERYTHING. I can’t apply for jobs because I don’t know when I’ll be back on my feet and available to go on interviews. I can’t look for an apartment because I don’t know when I’m returning to work and therefore able to go out on my own (money-wise). I don’t even know if I should be looking for a divorce attorney yet. And because of that, I don’t know if I should start dolling myself up for other men. (Because although it may seem fast, by the time I’m back on my feet, on my own and such, it’ll probably about a year since my husband and I split. Why should I keep waiting? Going through the pregnancy alone was hard enough!)
C’mon baby! I love you and want to see you, and mommy wants to start our lives together as soon as possible. Please come meet me soon!