You know that saying that each month has roughly 30 days…except the last month of pregnancy which has approximately 4,567?
Yep…I’m living it.
I’m officially down to my final few weeks (3 to be exact) and to say I’m limping over the finish line would be an understatement.
My body is achy, my mind is in overdrive and my mood, well it’s swinging like crazy.
Pregnancy insomnia, which is something I have unfortunately gotten in all of my pregnancies has me awake for hours during the night, right when I need sleep the most. Last night I couldn’t stop singing the words to “seasons” by small potatoes (abc for kids) in my head, over and over and over again. It’s a riveting life I lead.
It also plays havoc with my anxiety because no sleep+hormones=a very anxious Erin.
Then there’s the wear and tear on my poor old body. We had two rather hot days in a row this week and the result was cruel. The best way describe it, was that my vagina felt like this…
I wish I was joking, but I fear, had I actually got a mirror and looked at the poor old thing, it would have had the same shocked expression.
A vulval varicose vein, extreme heat, chafe due to my swollen thighs rubbing together, and yes my v-jay-jay had turned into this spiky puffer fish.
Agitation has been at an all time high (see puffer fish) the kids know I have no more energy and are having their advent calendars for breakfast and trashing the house not long after, most days.
I’m crying, over everything. Ads on TV. The Kardashians. The fact that Billy appears to be dropping his nap (why, why?????????) the day-to-day crap that still needs doing despite me being 370,000 weeks pregnant and walking around with a puffer fish between my legs.
But, and this is a big but. I really, really don’t want this baby to come early.
I’ve still got to get through Christmas. Then there’s that weird week between Christmas and New Years which no one wants to be born in because who ever remembers those birthdays??
Then there’s my due date. January 7th. A perfectly lovely date.
So it looks like I’m in it for the next few weeks. There will be complaining. There will be pain. There will be a lot of drowning of sorrows in fruit mince pies and pavlova. But I’m holding on for you baby.
And I so can’t wait to meet you little one.