37 weeks & mixed emotions

37 weeks

37 weeks! Full term 🙂 You think I’d be leaping up and down but for the first time… things have seemed a little hard.

Let’s focus on the positive: I still feel, physically, great. I sleep very well, can still focus at work, have no back discomfort (thank you chiropractor), no heartburn, and still actually forget I am pregnant, periodically. Seriously, TMI moment, but when I go to the bathroom, I sometimes expect my belly to have gone down when I leave… I just don’t feel much ‘different’. I don’t feel ‘pregnant’ as I expected to. I just feel great.

Mentally, this week has been a little harder. I love being pregnant, I love the energy, I love how I look, I love how I feel. I love how things are between Wes & I: we have this neatly settled life that runs so smoothly. We’re both happy and healthy and liking Houston, it makes us gentler on each other and ourselves. We’re getting to know each other better than before, and acting as a real partnership. Not two people doing their own thing towards a shared goal, but actively building something together. We have a routine that works so well (well, it does for me, but I am not the one doing all the housework 😉 ). And generally: life is good. It makes my heart sing.

I think that it is then only natural that in a way, I don’t want to upset all this. Let’s face it: when you love your pregnant body, a post partum body is not exactly something to look forward to. Clearly our life is going to become vastly different and I worry about what it will be like. I worry that Wes isn’t looking forward to being a 3-person family, that he isn’t looking forward to that in and of itself. I do also worry about not loving my kid… or not loving being a mother. I start think ‘holy moly, what have I (we) done?’. This intruder is going to be in our house and in our lives and basically all the pieces are going to be knocked down and who knows where they will land, and how we will pick them up, and what we will rebuild with them? I guess I am scared of what I have to lose, without knowing exactly what I will gain. It gives me a lot of respect for people who keep unplanned children, because at the end of the day, I keep telling myself ‘well, this is what you wanted, Lekki, one time you wanted this so desperately…’.

Love my bump – can’t believe it will be gone in 2.5 weeks!

I think this is partly motivated by the post grant-submission slump. I have written about the grant process before, and shared that while one would hope that when it finally goes in, when all those 2 am nights pay off (or 8 pm + some weekends if you are pregnant) one would hope you throw all your redundant drafts in the air, whoop with joy and run screaming to the pub. In reality you are far too tired, and far too behind on the rest of your work (and if you are like me, far too panicked about actually hitting ‘send’ when you *know* there are more typos). So, I don’t think I have ever felt good after submitting a grant… rather I have felt drained and panicked. And worried about having not been productive enough while I was writing it. And usually quite despondent at my chances of getting funded. Bleurgh. It’s just stressful and I get easily over wrought at the end.

The other stresses hit (e.g. finances… changing over our bank accounts to a local Texas bank has been so difficult! My paypal account got disconnected, which meant we couldn’t get money to the UK… which lead to a whole new load of stress because people treat you like you are a 47%er [sorry Romney fans, couldn’t resist 😉 ] ducking out of your responsibilities, not just someone doing their damned best in a difficult situation). And ugh. I think this is why I slept from 11.30pm on Saturday night – 9 am on Sunday. Then 10.30 am – 12.30 on Sunday. Then 12.45 – 3 on Sunday. Heh heh heh. And trust me it was an effort not to have another little nap at 5.

Welcome to my pity party y’all.

But. But. I am glad I have my faith, because I do try to trust that it will all be OK in the end. I do look back at my life, and see how I have got out of bad spots before and continued to love life, and love where I have ended up. I tell myself all the usual platitudes about how mothers do love their children, and they do adapt, and most choose to do it all again, and really, I do believe that having children can be the most wonderful thing (if it is what you want). And, I tell myself that those evil hormones are playing tricks on me. I spend my prayers in a different way at the moment: Instead of worrying and asking God for help and praying for forgiveness, I am focusing on Thanking God and basking in His love, and sending Him my gratitude and my love – it’s certainly a bit more positive 🙂

I do also recognize the fantastic support network I have – friends, Wes (who is consistently amazing at doing everything to make everything outside of work and pregnancy minimally stressful) and family. Just today a friend Skyped me and gave me words of encouragement about the inspirational power I have that brightened my day. From there: it is an upward spiral. Once I see people believing in me, I start to believe in myself, and my body, and my mind, and my work. It’s all good.

So, I don’t want people to think that I am miserable, or rocking in a corner crying to myself. I just wanted to acknowledge that sometimes things are hard, and not always as straightforward as one would hope, and write about it honestly. But also write that things are pretty darn good too.

And, when things all get a bit shaky, I can look at the latest pictures of those gorgeous chubby cheeks and remind myself just how excited and lucky that I am:

He looks like he is smiling