Okay, so the title of this post is a lie. (Catchy, though?) “Partum” doesn’t mean pregnant – it means childbirth. And I am not depressed. But “still-pregnant OMFGitis” just doesn’t have the same ring to it.
Picture this: you’re preparing to go away on a long trip. You’ve arranged someone to keep an eye on the animals, the mail, and the plants. The fridge has no perishables, which also means there’s little to eat so you’re basically in camping mode. The laundry is done, your favourite clothes and toiletries are packed, and the house is clean and orderly. Your obligations have been taken care of and your ouf-of-office is on. Your to-do list is pretty much bare. Mentally, you’ve already left, and you have a hard time thinking about anything other than your vacation. You’re ready.
Do you know this feeling? We all do, right?
Then you sit down to wait for the cab to take you to the airport.
And you keep waiting for, oh, TWO WEEKS AND TWO DAYS NOW.
And the cab might not be here for another three weeks. Or it might be here in one second! Better be ready, just in case!
Of course, our house is in labour/newborn mode, not vacation mode. But the feeling is the same: I’ve checked out of the here and now, but the next thing just. isn’t. happening.
I saw my midwife today. She said, and I quote, “I can’t believe you’re still pregnant!” The baby’s head is basically falling out of my vagina, I’m having practice contractions all the time, and everything from his position to his heart rate to his size is apparently “perfect.” On the plus side, this is supposed to be a precursor for a good labour.
… which is going to happen aaaaaany day now. But for sure eventually. Right?