38 Weeks

As my doctor likes to say each time he sees me, "Well, time is marching on."

Two more weeks seems simultaneously ridiculously soon and wretchedly far away. I keep clarifying for Dave, "I'm not actually saying I'm ready to have a baby, I'm just saying I'm ready to not be pregnant anymore."

Oh, I am frightened. I'm frightened of labor and birth. I'm frightened of the pain. My mini panic attacks over it- like I had before Annalise's birth- are back. I'm frightened of the advent of sleep deprivation, this time with a toddler to contend with while I deal with it. I'm frightened of the overwhelming anxiety that gets triggered by miniature people who won't stop crying.

If I could believe for just a moment that there was actually a baby, a real live person, another member of our family, that was coming out of this, it might make it easier. But I can't. It was the same with Annalise. I have no grasp of that til the baby is in my arms, no bond, no enormous love for the unborn person. I know that's strange, and not how other pregnant people feel, and my mother tells me she almost fainted with love for me every day since I was a two-celled zygote, but there you have it.

I read back over the blog from this time in my pregnancy with Annalise, and I am doing much better this time. The weather this summer has been remarkably cool and reasonable. It was 63* today at lunch while Annalise played outside at the playground. I froze. Two summers ago, I was blogging about how at 5pm it was 106 in the shade. Also, my ankles and feet are not the atrocities they were with her. Very mild swelling at the most this time, with no Shrek Feet to be seen. Very lovely, as you might imagine. I think my face might be a little swollen (or else just very fat) but since my wonderful and generous father is procuring us a brand new double BOB as a baby gift, I plan to run that right off. (One can always plan, right?)

Come soon, little Karina. Before your sister convinces us to change your name to her first choice- 'Ice Cream'.