I am currently 36 weeks along with my baby due at the very end of this month. This is my last week at work and after two weeks off, I’m impressed I managed to get up early and make it in. I always find at the best of times that any significant time off work leaves me very domesticated and not looking in the least like a working professional. I have spent the last two weeks at home with my hair in a loose pony tail, rotating the same few light cotton clothes that I could tolerate in the heat and slogging around in my husband’s big house shoes. I just didn’t feel civilised enough to return to the office. I’m just grateful for my simple abayah and scarf that hide my messy, un-groomed hair and mismatched clothes. Spending the whole day in normal shoes is another matter.
Waking up every day at 10am for the last few weeks and then spending an hour creaking and groggy before I come to life, means that the idea of getting up for work seems close to impossible. This week I’ll be getting up for work at 6:30am, so that means today I was vaguely functional by about 8:30am. Another reason I was wary of going back to work was that I have been having very strong Braxton Hicks (practice) contractions and I’m convinced the baby moved down at some point leaving me freaked out a little at the downward pressure, it felt slightly indecent to be going to work in that state. It seems to have moved up again, so I feel normal again (as normal as you can feel at the start of your ninth month of pregnancy). I went through a lot of the same with Darling, who came ten days early, so I don’t think I will make it to my due date this time round either.
The kids are on summer holidays so I am trying to keep them occupied and away from the computer. They get a bit frustrated that I can’t take them places, so mum-in-law takes them to the park and I am trying to get hubby to make time to take them out. Generally they will just have to be patient. The good thing is that they are reading lots, including Gorgeous who can spend hours reading compulsively which gives me some respite. The boys are finally suspicious that I am fat for a reason, but haven’t said much apart from Gorgeous tapping me on the stomach and asking me why I’m so fat – “Are you having another baby?” I asked him if he wanted one, and he said “Only if it’s a boy”
I’m usually in nesting mode around now, cleaning and organising everything in my way. This time round I just don’t have the strength and energy. Picking things up off the floor is painful and I get a very sore back after doing a little housework, so it’s a case of doing what is necessary, a little at a time and roping the kids in to help me. That means that this time nesting is just staying indoors and not wanting to go anywhere. I think everyone – kids, mum-in-law, hubby, are so used to be being out and about that they are going to find it odd me being at home all day and not going anywhere unless I have to.
Three more days of work and then I can find every cushion in the house, shove it under me at every angle and refuse to ever move again.