Probably, my mind is most restless of all. It's a strange thing to not look forward to anything but one single event. Honestly, I am not complaining, just simply stating a fact. There is NOTHING I look forward to right now, except for the birth of this child. It is all consuming. At a HUGE 37 weeks and some change, nothing is enjoyable anymore. Food sure isn't. Sleep definitely isn't. Work, well, if it ever was enjoyable, it is now the opposite (as in I dread it). Even sitting here typing is uncomfortable and unsatisfying. (Now replace "sitting here typing" with a different, slightly more inappropriate/over-share type word, and we've got that in the mix too.) Now I remember why I cried every night for the 10 days prior to Brock's birth. It's just bothersome to know that the kid is fully cooked, but something keeps it in there. Perhaps it is set up like this, so when the baby comes, wakes up at all hours, spits up, poops constantly, and runs you ragged, you don't care. Because ANYTHING is better than being pregnant at this point.
I am assuming these feelings hit at the same time during the last 2 pregnancies. Though, originally, I thought it started MUCH earlier, so I thought I was getting by easy with this third go. Now, I think it's that these last 2 weeks drag like you wouldn't believe therefore giving the illusion that this torture lasts for weeks and weeks on end. And to add to that (and the last 2 were the same way), I contract a lot. Just randomly. But pretty uncomfortable. And sometimes, 2 or 3 will come in a row, just enough to get my hopes up. Talk about your Chinese Water Torture. It really isn't as bad with #3, because I learned my lesson from the previous 2, but you can't help but hope.
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