A friend of mine got a text message in the middle of the night Saturday night. She awoke in a panic, her first thought being, “It’s happened! Waterfall’s gone into labor!”
Oh, but no. I didn’t go into labor this weekend. Scout’s still sitting in my belly, as snug as a bug in an amniotic rug—though I do feel like he/she is kicking me so much as a way of saying, “Get me out of here!” My belly is unbelievably tight, and I’m wondering if I’ll make it through pregnancy without developing stretch marks after all. Maybe that was too much to hope for—though I’d accepted early on that stretch marks are a “pregnancy rite of passage,” and I wasn’t all that stressed about getting them. It’s not like I have dreams of parading around in a bikini next summer. I just assumed I would get stretch marks, and that would be that.
I’ve felt really stressed lately, though. I think that, with my long work hours and being so busy at home, I’m suffering from lack of “me” time, and I know that my “me days,” at least for the next few years, are numbered. I haven’t had the time and/or ability to play piano, write, walk, run, sit in a coffee shop for several hours, or do anything else that’s important to my mental health. On top of that, I’m still not sleeping and am absolutely exhausted.
One night last week, I had a bit of a meltdown and couldn’t stop crying. Yes, the pregnancy hormones are coursing through my body, but I’ve been surprisingly stable and calm during this entire pregnancy—much more so than when I’m not pregnant. Pregnancy has actually been a boon to my mental health; where I had major mood swings before, I haven’t had a single one in the past nine months. So a big crying jag last week was a little surprising. I think most of it was due to fatigue rather than pregnancy hormones.
I know I need rest. I really hope Scout will hold out until his/her due date or later (but not a lot later). This week is going to be crazy, between work, company, and Thanksgiving. I really need a few days to rest before Scout is here. My hiker-friend Bayou is sending me a copy of Southbound, a book by my friends Isis and Jackrabbit, a.k.a. “The Barefoot Sisters.” I haven’t read it yet, and I’ve heard that I’m a character in it, so I’m looking forward to snuggling on the couch with my cats next week and reading my little heart out.
So that’s the latest. I’m going to get a prenatal massage this week to see if that can help lessen the stress, as least so I can hold out through this week without sharing my grumpiness and irritability with my co-workers, or with my family when they come to the house for Thanksgiving. And then, Scout willing, I’ll rest a few days as I enjoy my last “me days” for a while.