Every day for the past week I have been certain that I was going into labor. Now, I’ve never actually been in labor (Nate was a scheduled C-section), but I imagine labor feels something like what I’ve been experiencing all week: intense stabbing pains down in my nether regions (which by the way, is the worst place you want to have any sort of stabbing pains), abdominal cramping, and worse-than-normal back pain.
Now, yes, most of the “I’m definitely going into labor right now” moments have occurred after I’ve been on my feet for too long (read: longer than 30 minutes), but really, all this pain I’m feeling is pretty awful. And it’s really hard to stay off my feet for very long.
I did go check with my doctor, just to make sure that I wasn’t going into labor (I’m not), but also to make sure that Baby Will hadn’t somehow acquired an axe and had decided to hack his way out of the birth canal (so far, no sign of any sharp objects hidden up there).
As of Tuesday I will have 7 more weeks to go (I’ll be 32 weeks along, but my doctor has already scheduled my C-section for 39 weeks). Now, I don’t want Baby Will to come too early, because of course I want him to be healthy, but holy cow, I’m not sure I can do this for another 7 weeks. And I’m not sure my husband can listen to me complain for another 7 weeks. Like I told him, I’m terribly uncomfortable 100% of the time, and I’m in some sort of actual pain 80% of the time.
So, Baby Will, as soon as you are nice and big and healthy, feel free to go ahead and kick things into gear and head on outta there. Momma needs a break. Because, really, as hard and exhausting as it is taking care of a newborn, at least I won’t be pregnant anymore.
