Clutso-rama just about sums it up. Maybe it’s the fact that I can’t see the ground from the same view that I used to or maybe it’s that having a baby growing out of your belly throws your balance off. Whatever the case may be, I’m a tripping machine. And not in the 1960’s psychedelic way, but rather in the skinned knee and red-face rush of embarrassment way. I tripped over uneven concrete yesterday and nearly broke the sandals I was wearing. Luckily they didn’t totally bust, but I did have to throw them away when I got home after the toe cramping from trying to keep the sandal on my foot resulted in this weird phenomenon where my toe involuntarily became stick straight and a fierce pain took over. A few weeks back I tripped, and actually fell, while walking the dog. I have a scabbed knee to prove it. Funny thing is that the same thing happened when I was pregnant with Hooper. I had taken Sarah for a walk one day toward the end of my pregnancy, when I was practically ready to shove my own arm up my va-jay-jay and pull that boy out of me. Anyway, I had tripped, fell, skinned my knee and I instantly started crying. I just felt so pathetic. And then once I started crying, I couldn’t stop. I think I even started crying when recounting the event for Willy. This time around, there have been no tears, just skinned knees. So yeah, uneven pavement is not my friend.
With my first pregnancy, I was having so many braxton hicks this week that I was instructed by my midwives to get checked out at the hospital. I cancelled a baby shower my work had planned for me. I was pretty certain I was set to deliver early. In reality, I was pregnant another SEVEN weeks (that’s a month and a half, people!) and the braxton hicks weren’t anything other than braxton hicks. I’m having a lot of braxton hicks this time around too, but I haven’t paid them any attention. I know now what the difference is.
Emotionally, I’ve had passing episodes of fear of the inevitable labor pain. With my first pregnancy, the pain was unknown. With this pregnancy, the pain is known. I’m not sure what’s worse. The fear is very momentary, fortunately, and overall I feel confident in my body’s ability to birth this baby. And, to be honest, my memories from Hooper’s birth are saturated with so many other things other than pain. I remember my mom always telling me that we forget about the pain rather quickly, otherwise we’d never have another child. And it’s true, I can’t remember the pain exactly. I just know it was painful. Fortunately, these feelings are very momentary and all in all, I wouldn’t have chosen the home birth path if it wasn’t something I knew I was capable of or if it were something I didn’t want to experience.
In other news, we’re remodeling our kitchen. Initially we were house hunting for something a little bigger and preferably something with a pool (summers in the Valley are h-h-hot). Ultimately we decided staying where we are would be more economical so we’ve opted to make it the house we envision it to be and stay here for a few more years to enjoy it. So ya, construction should be underway this week. I realize it’s insanely close to my due date, but part of me is so excited to have a distraction… something else to “wait” on other than the ticking clock in my uterus. It’s nice to stay busy. Hopefully it all works out time wise, as I don’t envision giving birth in a dust bowl.