I’m still here, still pregnant, still contracting ridiculously regular, still waiting. Pierce asked this morning when his brother will be born. I might have snapped at him slightly.
Thing is, I’m not overdue. I have passed the point that Ellie was born in my pregnancy, but none of the others had been born by this point. I’m just tired and sore and looking forward to it being over and holding and seeing this baby. Not looking forward to labor so much, but labor being over sounds wonderful.
Life goes on. Laundry, school, and supper are about all I get done these days. Ellie’s keeping up with potty training great, though she lost her accident free status with a few moments of procrastination. I realized I actually have to pack a bag this time around, having gotten out of practice with home births. I took the first step… Made a list of what to pack. Ellie’s procrastination is rubbing off. I haven’t even gotten the car seat out yet.
And so… We wait. Try to pick a name. Keep stocked up on groceries, try to keep the house picked up so it’s not embarrassing should someone need to come watch children here, and wait.
Waiting for labor never gets less strange, even eight children later. Life stops at some point, everything gets dropped in that moment, but… When? I’m with Pierce. When?!