I could never have been a marathon runner. I would have given up long before the finish line.
In fact I have this memory of a sports carnival and being asked to fill in for someone in the long distance event. I agreed because I’m a yes person and instantly regretted it. About 400 metres in, I faked a rolled ankle and sat on the ground until help arrived.
All class over here.
Pregnancy for me really is no different. It’s one hell of a marathon which finishes with what could be described as the most gruelling struggle to the finish line.
But it’s a means to an end. A pretty bloody great end of course. A lovely newborn bundle of deliciousness, end!
The problem for me, right now, is that the 8.5 weeks I currently have left to “run” feel like an eternity and a race I can’t really be stuffed running.
I’ve effectively given up on all of my day to day duties of being a stay at home mother.
Cooking edible meals? Yeah no chance of that!
Folding and putting away washing? Zippidy do dah no, no, no.
Making myself look presentable for the public eye? Hell to the no way!
Effectively parenting my children? Yep I’ve even given up on that too!
The fact is in the last week I feel like I have been hit with a tonne of bricks, that have now laid to rest on my body and I can’t be arsed removing them.
I’m tired, but I can’t sleep. I’m heavy and breathless, and achy and swollen.
And I still have more than EIGHT WEEKS of shuffling before I cross that final line.
The thing is, I know my mojo will come back once I burst through the ribbon. It always does.
So right now I’m simply biding my time. Wallowing in my swolleness (see I don’t even care that that’s not a word) and counting down the days until the old me is reborn…along with this shiny, new, bouncing baby of mine.
And maybe, just maybe, I might score myself a medal for my efforts…let’s face it, a certificate of participation is at least a guarantee!
How do you cope with that last hurdle of pregnancy?