At around this point in my first pregnancy, we were already back home from the hospital with a week-old baby, so this is getting to be uncharted territory for me now. Here at 39 weeks pregnant, I’m gaining a new appreciation for the feeling of wanting to be “done,” and a newfound sympathy for those moms who go to 40, 41, or even 42 weeks in their pregnancies.
I’ve been on maternity leave for over a week now, which has taken some adjusting — even with doing some work remotely, it’s definitely shaken up the usual routine, and there’s been a sneaking sense of cabin fever creeping in. Then toward the end of last week I was knocked flat by a bad cold (no fever or anything, just really bad congestion) which interfered with my ability to sleep above and beyond the typical pregnancy-related discomforts — but thankfully, that’s subsiding now.
I’ve also pretty much given up on wearing shoes other than flip-flops, partly because my feet have been super swollen lately, but even if they weren’t, it’s also gotten really cumbersome to do the bending needed to put on any other kind of shoe. And heck, it’s not like I’m going anywhere. The only drawback is that the temperature here in Chicago has been falling into the 60’s and 50’s, which is getting to be about the bottom threshold of flip-flop wearing weather. (Hard to believe that summer is pretty much over already, and fall will be in full swing before we know it.)
On the medical side of things, my doctor’s appointment last Wednesday revealed no additional progress, which was pretty discouraging. Even so, an
eviction induction date has been tentatively set for this Wednesday, September 17th (which would put us at 39 weeks + 5 days), though only if all the scheduling works out. Which is far from certain at this point, since apparently I’m only on a “waiting list” rather than anything more concrete.
I have to admit — when my doctor (repeatedly) brought up the possibility of a 39-week induction earlier on in the pregnancy, I didn’t realize there would be so much uncertainty and rigmarole involved in actually making it happen. If I had, I might’ve been able to plan things out differently when it came to arranging my maternity leave, or at the very least adjusted my expectations of how (and if) the whole induction thing was likely to go down.
But it is what it is, I suppose. It is nice to have gotten to a point where everything is pretty much ready to go — the nursery is ready, the car seat is installed, and I’ve even gotten a hospital bag mostly packed. (The first thing to go in was like 10 newborn-sized outfits, after that whole business of bringing Lillian home from the hospital in a ridiculously oversized outfit because we somehow failed to pack anything smaller when throwing things into the bag at 1:00 in the morning.)
And just to put an even more positive spin on things, it helps to try to focus on the grand prize at the end. Once we get to hold and cuddle this new baby girl, and introduce her to her newly-minted big sister, all these pregnancy-related frustrations and discomforts will become inconsequential things of the past. (Or at the very least, forgotten in that wonderful haze of new-parent sleep deprivation!)