38 Weeks: Hitting the Wall

I woke up this morning in tears.  I have now had so many dreams where I'm holding my baby girl that I actually woke up and cried when I realized she was not in my arms (but still punching my bladder).  It doesn't even matter that the dream I awoke from this morning was completely ridiculous (I gave birth at a water park, Pete was nowhere to be found, I got in a fight with my brother because he wanted to watch the dolphin show before coming to meet his niece, and I decided to learn how to surf when the baby was one day old...WOW).  All that mattered was that I woke up feeling so intensely fed up, impatient and upset that all I could do was cry.

Like most pregnant women, I hit the point of being done with this pregnancy physically quite a few weeks ago.  But today I think I finally hit the point of being emotionally done with it.  I have felt depressed all morning.  After spending weeks cleaning, organizing  shopping, getting ready, making lists and crossing things off them, and taking care of my sick six-year-old, today I just feel incredibly bored.  Everything is crossed off of my lists, everything is packed, the nursery is ready, Ryan is pretty much well, we have enough leftovers in the frig for dinner for the next four days, and the house is clean (except for dishes, which I hate, so they will probably sit for a while since Pete is too sick to wash them).  I feel like I have nothing to do...yet at the same time, I have absolutely no energy to do anything that I should do, like taking a shower or getting out of my pajamas.  I haven't seen any of my friends in weeks thanks to everyone's kids being endlessly ill with the plagues of winter, and with Pete being sick now too, I haven't had much quality time with him either.  So I feel alone.  I'm tired, because I toss and turn for hours trying to get comfortable enough to sleep, and when I do sleep, I dream about being in labor or meeting our baby and then I wake up thinking it's finally time...but it never is...and then I get nauseous and have to take medicine so I don't throw up, and then I start the whole process of trying to fall asleep all over again.  Ever since getting out of bed this morning, I just feel sad, even though I have no real reason to be sad.  And that's exhausting.  All I want to do is hold her. And kiss her tiny nose. And smell that awesome baby smell. And hold her.  I feel like it is just never going to happen, even though I know the truth is that it will happen very soon.  How does that make any sense?!?

I hit this wall when I was pregnant with Ryan too...but not until after I passed my due date (and unfortunately  because I was already battling depression during that pregnancy, it got pretty bad by the time I was finally induced at 42 weeks). This time around, I'm hitting the wall two weeks before my due date...and I'm not quite sure how I feel about that.  All I can do is hope and pray that it won't last much longer, and try to find some way to deal with it in the meantime.  New projects?  More cleaning?  More naps?  A massage and pedicure (*hint hint to my husband*)?

I know I won't be pregnant forever. In fact I probably won't be pregnant for longer than two more weeks.  But somehow that feels like such a long time right now.  But this little girl and I have made it through 38 weeks, and most of it was pretty rough, so I guess we can hold out for a couple more.

P.S. I need Chipotle. And I will never agree to be pregnant again until I live close enough to one. The end.

Happiness in foil, oh how I miss you.