I think Tom Petty said it best when he sang, "the waiting is the hardest part." Or maybe you mothers out there are laughing at me, thinking 'she has not even crossed into the hardest part.' I'll take my chances.
At this point I feel like nothing else I am doing matters. Dragging myself into work in the morning is becoming the biggest chore of my day. As R said the other day, "why can't we just sit on the couch watching movies and eating pizza until she comes?" My thoughts exactly. It is as if we have the most exciting and surprising vacation coming up any day now. Our bags are all packed. We are sick of working and ready for it. But we have no departure date. We could be leaving today or we could be leaving in three weeks. I have never been a patient person so I knew these last few weeks would be hard. But I never knew it would be like this. I have no focus and seem to be in a perma bad mood, snapping at almost everyone. Just get me to the good part already!
Physically, I wake up every morning feeling like I have run a marathon. I cannot believe the difference in my body. Monday I decided to walk the 3.5 miles to work, which I have been doing daily for months. Halfway there, I quite seriously thought I might have to call a cab. It was the first time in my life I doubted my physical capability to push through. I made it. But it really wiped me out. Today I plan to walk to the subway. I am sick of maternity clothes, sick of my body feeling like the foreign, doughy skin of someone else. I have no interest in getting dressed. Ever. Last night we went to dinner with a couple friends and I was seriously contemplating wearing sweats. What difference does it make? All anyone sees when we go out anymore is a giant pregger anyway.
I know I should be enjoying these last few days of freedom. I am trying to geta lot of sleep/movies/socializing in before B-day. But I am so ready for this to move to the next step. I am so ready to meet her and hold her and start to really be her mom. I am ready to let go of work and my current life for a while and wrap myself in something new.
Last night I had my first baby nightmare. I dreamt that she had a very high fever and I put her in my backpack to take her to the doctor. I kept checking on her and she was burning up but I could not make the subway go any faster. By the time we got to our destination, she was shriveled up like a little houseplant and was not alive. I was freaking out and was trying to revive her. At the same time, I thought maybe the doctors could help her. Yuck. I did not enjoy that dream.