Counting Down to Zero

I'm about four weeks away from my due date. I'm somewhat torn about this. There is one part of me that is like: I AM NOT READY TO HAVE A BABY! WHAT THE HELL WERE YOU THINKING, IRELAND. YOU CAN'T TAKE CARE OF YOURSELF, YOU EXPECT YOU'RE GOING TO TAKE CARE OF A TINY, SQUALLING HUMAN BEING?

Then, there's this other part of me that's like: GET HER OUT NOW.

I can't sleep for more than a few hours because there is this head squashing my bladder making it the size of a peanut. (I swear it's that big.) I'm pretty sure I don't have hemorrhoids, but it's all...eck from all the peeing. I'm so over peeing. And I'm sick of my skin feeling too tight. I don't know how to describe it other than my skin is just too tight.

So, am I ready?

Emotionally? Hell no.
Physically? Hell no. (I'm still totally freaking out about the whole birth thing. Who thought THAT was a good idea?)

But, do I want the whole being pregnant thing to be over?

Yeah. I do. I'm over being pregnant.

I am exhausted. I'm finally looking pregnant, so my belly is awkward and my boobs almost always ache. AND YET, a few of my maternity shirts (mostly from Target and Old Navy) are still too big. Two I got during my first round of ordering maternity clothes, I put on this past weekend and my husband asked, "Are those maternity shirts?"

"Yes."
"Why are they still so big? Do they think you're having a whale? What size are those?"
"Small."
"Do they size them differently so bigger people think they are suddenly smaller during pregnancy?"
"They must. I feel tiny in this shirt," I replied, as I took it off and put on a non-maternity tank top I hardly ever wore while living in Alaska because it was never really warm enough to walk around in only a tank top.

It covered the bump and the fact my shorts were maternity. (At least THOSE fit.)

I believe I've got all the baby stuff (except a nursing chair). I've ordered a second base for the car seat, I picked up a variety of diapers this afternoon (and wipes). I picked up some nipple cream to take the hospital with me as well as granny panties to wear after I deliver. (They looked HUGE when I unwrapped them, which is odd, as they are the same size I got when I first found out I was pregnant and none of these look big. Whatever. They are 100% cotton, unlike the other ones I got.) I need to pack my bag to go to the hospital, which I'll do either later this afternoon or tomorrow. I'm packing up the diaper bag for the baby. (I know I don't need to, but I just decided to throw her stuff into her own bag just to keep things separate.)

The only thing not ready in the kid's room is all the art work I've made. I've got no frames. Pilot Boy was supposed to get a miter board from his dad, but I don't think that's going to happen anytime soon, so the pieces of artwork won't likely have frames till I break down and shell out big bucks to get some.

Today, besides getting some diapers and wipes, I picked up a little lamp to use at night in the room, as the only light in there is the overhead light on the fan. It's not the owl lamp I wanted, but the owl lamp was 69 dollars and the one I picked up at Lowes was 15.

The baby is still turned and facing downward (I could have told the doctor that, but it was nice to confirm her fat head was still doing headstands on my bladder and I wasn't crazy). I was also told today, that he'd induce me if I was at three centimeters a week before my due date if I wanted.

I said yes. I want her out.

He chuckled. Then went on to say, or we could just wait till you're 41 weeks. I kind of wanted to hit him, only I like him, so I didn't.

"I want her out. I'm over being pregnant."
"Well, some women like being pregnant and want to remain pregnant for as long as they can," he said, laughing at me.

I was glaring at him at this point.

I am not one of those woman.

I am over ramming into things.
I am over peeing every hour.
I am over being kept up most of the night because I can't get comfortable and someone likes to do headstands on my peanut sized bladder. (Her beating me with her feet and trying to break out of my uterus using her feet and hands don't bother me, it's the pressure on my bladder I could do without.)
I am over maternity clothes.
But mostly, I'm over this whole peeing every hour thing.