Opinion

OPINIONATED STORYTELLING

The Wait

I am 40 weeks pregnant. And what do 40-week pregnant do? They wait. They wait for a sign that it is time to deliver this baby they've been carrying. For. So. Long. Before I proceed let me just say I know it is a blessing to be pregnant, I consider it an amazing gift, I still don't understand how in the world we grow a human being inside of us, I understand it is magical. But, magic aside, on your last weeks of pregnancy, all that most women I know can think about is: TOO LONG. Too damn long.

My husband has been repeating this glorious phrase for two weeks now: "Enjoy. Enjoy this last moments you will ever be pregnant". (our plan is to have only two kids) The only thing I can think of and say to it with my yellow smile is: "A phrase only someone who's never been and never will be pregnant can say". 

I also want to tell him what the wait is like. The wait is when boredom sets in. You are ready, the baby is almost ready, let's do this you think. Or, oops, let's wait a bit more (argh!).

The wait is when after reading all of the different 'to do' lists of what to prepare for your baby and executing the items like a master you are still running around the house to find something to do while you wait (I have mentioned boredom, yes, that!).

The wait is when you start running out of the food you diligently bought when your belly was not this massive. The wait is also the moment you realize you don't feel like running out of the house to go to the market AGAIN.

On that note, the wait means you would like to do everything now in your pijamas. In fact, at this point, you cannot stand any of the 'pregnant' outfits you have been wearing for so long. You start declining invites to meet your friends for a relaxing coffee or drink because again, the same dress?! 

It is not that you cannot do anything during the wait. You should, you know it is best to keep active (including sexually). But seriously, sexually???? (time to crack up and don't stop until you burst into tears). You are stuck with a body you don't recognize, you try to hop off of your car but realize the space is not big enough, your pretty lingerie is something of the past. In most cases your baby is so far down you can almost touch his head (not true, but you get the feeling!).

The wait means answering countless times that "No, the baby hasn't decided to come out yet", "No, I don't know when he is coming", "Yep, still very pregnant".  

It may be that for some women this last stretch feels like any other moment of their pregnancy, a complete bliss. It may be that some of them haven't put on as many pounds as I have and things feel a lot easier. It may be that they already have a C-section scheduled and know the date of the end.

But, as none of these things apply to my case, right now, all I want to do is start exercising my complicity and connection with my baby and tell him, gently: "Please, please, please. It is time to come out. Let's do this, ok?"