Waiting not so patiently

I think a friend of mine nailed it on the head when she commented that we humans have to be pregnant nine months, otherwise we'd never be willing to go through the pain of delivery after just eight months. By the end of the ninth, however, we're willing to do whatever to get the baby out!

I wish I could say I was handling these last few days of anticipation with grace and dignity. I'm not. I wake-up every night to go to the bathroom or take some antacids or simply to rollover to alleviate pain in my hands, hips, or pelvic region, and think to myself, "How much longer can this go on???" I'm tired of having to be pushed out of bed by my husband or heaving myself out. I can't wait for it to be a simple operation to change positions or turn around while sitting rather than a major production. I look forward to having normal feeling in my fingers. I've forgotten what my feet should look like. And all the while, I give a hard look at my tummy and think, "What is taking her so long!"

I've had lots of wonderful advice from friends about "enjoying this time" as it will be "the last you get to..." fill in the blank. Sleep in. Take a nap when you want to. Have Nick to yourself. I would gladly follow all that advice that I can, and try to! But it's hard to enjoy it when you hurt, you're uncomfortable, and you have to leave off snuggling when you're interrupted, not by your kid, but that pesky acid reflux.

Physically, it seems like "all systems are go". We're missing only two ingredients: contractions and water-breaking, which by all accounts can begin out of nowhwere. So, I have to admit, it seems like she's the one not ready for this. I wonder if I'll have to teach her that, at least in our American culture, being early is a good thing?