The bump is now bigger than me, it really is. It’s so far in front that I feel all I can do is follow and sometimes I can’t even do that because it’s getting so heavy. The baby has little room anymore so elbows, feet and other body parts seem to stick out of my side now and then with even more definition. I feel quite sorry for the poor thing, I know I wouldn’t want to be stuck somewhere where the walls keep closing in around me, even if they are a little flexible.
Not so fun for the baby and less and less fun, physically, for me these days. I am meant to have packed my bag for the hospital and should be reading up on birth plans and labour. Apart from the antenatal classes, however, I have done no more research on those than before. What a time for denial.
I kept telling myself that I would do all the useful and necessary stuff just as soon as I cleared out a proper space for the baby stuff and set up the cot. I managed to get the cot out of the box at least and now it’s pieces are resting against my wardrobe. The space has been cleared but the compilation did not take place. Apparently it takes two to put it together so I am waiting for my housemate to help out when he gets a chance.
I have to stop myself making plans any more. I can’t commit to anything that takes place from this week forward and that feels a bit strange. I have arranged to go for dinner on Tuesday and a coffee on Thursday morning and they are events that will probably happen rather than definitely. From Wednesday, the baby will no longer be premature if it decides to arrive.
So that brings up the next issue, what outfit do I choose for the little arrival?
I will also take a blankie with me but not sure I should take the beautiful quilt that my housemate’s mum knitted. She used baby cotton and crocheted it which took a while. So soft and wonderful and quite big so may leave it in the cot for when we get home.
Once the cot has been constructed, that is.