Week Thirty

… and the hormones are clearly a’rampagin'.

So, wow, we’re in the thirties and Baby Swede’s arrival is closing in. It has felt so far away for so long but now, in the final quarter, I'm starting to feel a bit panicky about all that we need to do to get ready. And then there’s the reality that we probably still won’t be ready even after the nursery walls are painted and the diapers purchased. There’s the fear, for one thing. Last night as I was falling asleep I realized that the baby hadn’t moved in hours, even while I was lying in a position it typically loves (or hates, who knows) based on the action in my belly. I lay there willing the baby to wake up and poke me so I would know it was okay in there and feeling overwhelmed already by my concern about the wellbeing of this child that I haven’t even met yet. Imagine how it’s going to be when I actually get to hold it, when it gets a personality, when it becomes a he or a she. My mom has always told me when I would say, frustrated, that I understood that she worried about me that, no, I couldn’t understand nor would I until I was a mother. I think I’m starting to get the slightest inkling of what she meant and I don’t know if I’ll ever be ready for that kind of fear. Maybe in eight to ten weeks, though. Here’s hoping. Oh, and there's been a sommersault training session in there all day so no worries.