the {cranky} End.


photo by Savannah Amyx Photography

photo by Savannah Amyx Photography

Depending on your/your doctor’s definition of ‘full-term’, I hit full-term in my pregnancy last Sunday (so I’m 37 weeks, 2 days along right now) and I’m a pile of walking contradictions. I like to think I’ve done better this pregnancy in terms of being cranky/angry/hating being pregnant, but now, with the due date so close all the emotions seem to come pouring out.

Not Any Day Now

I say that all the time. I could go into labor any day now, and it is true. Totally fine when I say it. Scares the living daylights out of me when Anthony or anyone else says it. I’m the only one allowed to say it, even if that makes no sense.

Yes, I’m Still Pregnant

If you are looking at me, that much is, believe me, abundantly obvious and, trust me, does NOT need to be said. I know I’m still pregnant, you can see that I’m still pregnant, let’s all move on with our lives before I come up with some witty response that may or may not offend you.
If you aren’t looking at me, don’t ask if I’m pregnant. Don’t you think that IF I have had the baby I would tell you? Do you think I’d just forget to mention that I had the baby? No, I wouldn’t. My facebook page will blow up with pictures of my littlest squish. Unless you have HARD evidence to the contrary, assume I’m still pregnant and move on.

Leave Me Alone

I don’t want anyone to expect anything of me for the next…two-three months. Don’t expect me to show up, be happy, or join any events that you want me to. I’m big and pregnant and still chasing around a toddler – and that is enough for pretty much every day from now until I give birth. Invite me if you so desire, but don’t expect me to go. Also, anything I do say yes to between now and three months from now is contingent on labor and my general sense of cleanliness/sleep deprivation.

Talk To Meeeeeeee

I actually don’t mind people talking to me, but for the love, can we please talk about anything BUT my pregnancy? Please? At this point I’ve begun to feel like an incubator. The baby is basically done developing all the things she’ll need outside the womb and now she’s just getting comfy in my womb. And big. And bigger. And then I have to push her out. I do not want to talk about it. I want to talk about shopping, about clothes that I’ll fit into once I don’t look like I’m trying to steal a beachball from WalMart. I want to talk about getting my nails done, my hair done, sitting on a beach…things that may never actually happen, but I’m just so, so very over talking about pregnancy and delivery. Talk about me as a PERSON not just a baby-grower and baby-pusher-outer.

Do. Not. Ask.

I don’t know when the baby will be born. Unlike last time, I know what labor (generally) feels like, but I still have no idea when it is coming – that’s why Paul uses the analogy of a woman in labor so often in his letters – I DO NOT KNOW, don’t ask. Don’t ask about my labor plan unless you are going to be in the room with me. Don’t ask how much weight I’ve put on, how swollen my feet are, how I’m sleeping, or whether or not I’m ready for the baby to be born. I can be as ‘ready’ around the house as possible, but no one is ever really ready for labor to start or for what happens to a Mama’s heart when she holds her baby for the first time in her arms. Don’t ask if I’m ready to pop and/or which strategies I’ve tried to start labor. Just don’t ask – and don’t tell me how to start labor, either. This baby will come out when she is good and ready, but until then, leave me alone, talk to me, and don’t ask. All of the above. Got it? 😉

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