33 Weeks

I can't remember exactly, but around this time in my last pregnancy I came down with a case of shingles and was off work for two weeks. It. Sucked. It was a mild case, so I didn't really think much of the aches and pains until three days later, and so there were no anti-viral drugs for me -- because they don't work, really, unless you start them within 48 hours, and because it was a mild case and because, hello, I'm PREGNANT and I'm not that keen on exposing my unborn child to drugs that aren't approved for pregnancy, not when there's not a very compelling (i.e. life and death) reason to do so.

So when I woke up this morning with the scratchy throat and congestion of a cold, I thought -- nope, no work for me today. The cold is just going around, it's nothing sinister. But I've been feeling pretty tired lately and I don't want to get run down at almost eight months pregnant. So better safe than sorry.

But then there was the matter of the Project That Must Be Completed By Monday and The Terrible Mat Leave Replacement Problem That Had To Be Solved Today, and Oh Yeah, the fact that my kid needed to go to daycare which is five minutes from my office, so ... I went late (10-ish) and left early (noon-ish) but still ended up at work regardless. The good news is the Problem and the Project are both pretty much solved, and the even better news is that I got to spend two hours this afternoon on my couch (working, but still reclined, which is nice).

The point of this all being: I'm turning the corner into that Last Stretch. That last month where you are big and tired and slowly more and more uncomfortable. I want to take it easy, conserve my strength, but really how does anyone do that? (I heard that in Germany they mandate that you HAVE to take your mat leave starting a month out from your due date. I suppose THAT'S how.) All I know is that work for the next month is going to be a sprint to the finish -- we may have (probably) found my replacement, but there is a lot still to be tied up and finished; and regardless I still have a house and a four year old and a family to take care of. And not nearly enough holiday time. (My employer is pretty good as far as mat leave goes, but they don't give me holidays days for the months I'm not actually going to be working. Go figure.)

I can tell I'm already starting to check out. There are projects that I'm working on that I can't help thinking I'm so glad I'm handing this off and I won't have to deal with it for a whole year -- if ever again! Between the midwife and my doula and the massages I'm treating myself to to keep myself nice and relaxed and happy, I feel like I'm hardly at work anyway. And it's just so much nicer to work on the couch and not in my office chair.

If this baby is born as early as the last one, it'll be four weeks until arrival; seven weeks until due date; nine weeks until there will be significant efforts to get out a baby if he / she hasn't yet arrived.

The strangest thing is that in some ways, despite my finalizing work and finishing up projects, part of my brain can't get itself around the idea of having a baby. It doesn't feel real. Nine weeks feels like forever away. I am not at all ready. There is no car seat. There are no clothes cleaned. There are no diapers or wipes bought. There is no place for the baby to sleep, and my son's room needs a complete reorganization to house the baby which should be obvious by now is not even begun.

But the rest of my mind and my body know that final stretch is beginning whether I'm ready for it or not. So ... here we go.