kp5

I have just entered my forty-first week of pregnancy. For those of you unfamiliar with the gestation period of humans in measurements of weeks, the average is forty weeks, (37 weeks is the minimum considered full term) give or take two weeks. This is why doctors give an ‘estimated’ due date to expectant mothers.

Most of the pregnant population does not talk about the estimated part. We plan and plan for the due date and the ‘just in case baby arrives early’. Not many plan for baby arriving late, until baby actually is late.

If you were familiar with my own history and my family’s history of gestation and birth, you’d be pretty damn amazed that I am now a week over due. If you subscribe to Murphy’s Law and have read my other articles on pregnancy, you’d be not so amazed. You’d probably contend this is what I get for all my whining thus far.

With that in mind, I’m thankful for going full term and then some. I was thrilled to learn yesterday that my baby weighs some where in the range of seven to eight and half pounds, making him the biggest baby to be born in my family in generations. I’m thankful for having a baby-to-be who has had no health problems and this having been a relatively normal and typical pregnancy.

Still, I’m absolutely physically miserable. Every part of my body is sore. I attribute this to my body having enough of pregnancy. Putting on a pair of underwear has never been such a challenge. This is due to the fact that lifting my legs sends pains to my crotch area. When you have someone’s head bearing down on your cervix for two weeks straight you’ll fully understand what I’m talking about.

Mentally I’m trying to hang in there. It’s not a simple task. I keep going back and forth between elation and dread. I’m so happy that I will soon be a mom holding a healthy baby in my arms, but I dread waking up in the morning and prying my still pregnant body out of bed.

My parents came to visit for the birth last week. It was sad to send them home without having them see their grandchild. It was sad to realize I will not have my mom with me when I do go into labor to do all those things good moms do when you need them the most. My dad won’t be there to dote over me or, rather, make his stupid, witty, well timed remarks during times of stress that always relieve my tension and fears.

Now to the nitty-gritty- I can’t write about pregnancy without complaining about something, now can I?

People are constantly calling and asking me ‘any baby yet’ or ‘how are you feeling- any contractions’ on a daily basis.. This does not help me feel any better about being overdue. It also doesn’t help when you’ve had contractions on and off for the past three weeks. It just drives me up the wall. If you know a woman who’s expecting a baby any time soon, please don’t ask her such silly questions. Trust in the fact that she or someone close to her will tell you if the baby has arrived or is arriving soon.

Remember that if she were having any contractions pointing towards impending labor, she’d tell you before you asked. And if she had the baby or was having the baby, she certainly wouldn’t be answering the phone or checking her email. (Well, Duh!)

I understand that people are anxious and excited about impending labor. What others need to understand is that the pregnant mother is MORE anxious and excited than everyone else. I for one am writhing in anxiety and excitement and I’ve talked with other moms-to-be who feel the same. Let me point out that stress can delay labor and it’s important for friends and family to make the expecting mother comfortable and relaxed the last three or four weeks of her pregnancy.

You can’t do this by calling umpteen times a day, or even when everyone the pregnant woman knows calls just once a day. That can add up to tons of phone calls. Besides, it’s so hard to get my butt off the chair or couch to waddle to the phone. Lord forbid if I’m in the shower or using the bathroom or engaged in an activity where I don’t have any free hands, like cooking.

If you happen to miss a phone call someone might think you are in labor. Then the phone rings twice as much leaving you severely annoyed. So, you have return ten thousand phone calls ASAP to let everyone know that you were having loose bowels.

The only people in my life who seem to have a sane grip on my pregnancy are my nieces and nephew. They never call me during the day, they never ask if I’m having contractions, they never annoy me with silly comments. They just maintain the belief that I can’t be pregnant forever and baby will come in good time. As my seven-year-old niece told me yesterday, nothing is one hundred percent except one thing-that the baby will be here soon, when he is ready.

She’s right. He’s not going to accommodate anyone one person’s schedule or time line. Due dates mean nothing to him. He doesn’t care who’s there at the birth. He doesn’t care if Aunt Matilda knows how far apart the contractions are. The only thing he does need and care about is a relaxed and comfortable mom’s body to help him out. So keep the phone calls to a minimum and think before you speak.

Excuse me; I need to answer the phone now…