Dear Baby, I want you out NOW!

You are now considered to be full term, therefore your lease has expired. Hence, I hereby request that you vacate the premises at your earliest possible convenience. Please do so in a fast and orderly manner, leaving the space in exactly the same condition you found it.

Many thanks, your landlord. (AKA Mummy)

Ok, I don’t know how I can say this to convey just how strongly I feel it, but I really REALLY want this baby out now. I am 39 weeks on Thursday and feel like I have been pregnant for about 4 years, with the final week looming like an unachievable hurdle I don’t have the strength to cross. And I am so grumpy and over it I can hardly stand myself.

You see, I never thought I’d make it this far. Throughout my entire pregnancy I have been convinced I would have the baby early. Like my first pregnancy I got big very quickly and have looked and felt like I was full term since early in my second trimester. But in that case our son surprised us and came unexpectedly at 37 weeks and 5 days. This was fantastic because I was expecting to go to 40 weeks so hadn’t reached the emotional and physical hump of being truly over it yet.

So this time, perhaps foolishly, I set my ‘over it’ meter firmly at 37 weeks and mentally prepared myself to have the baby then. When people asked me how long I had to go I added up how many weeks til 37 and told them as many. This also had the added benefit of not having to deal with their shocked reactions when someone with a belly the size of a large watermelon told them she still had 8 weeks to go.

I know your previous pregnancies don’t always predict what the next will be and my mother and my obstetrician warned me I was setting myself up for an agonising wait if I went full term but, of course, I didn’t listen. And at 33 weeks, when the head dropped, I felt I had justification and proof that I wouldn’t have to wait too much longer.

At 34 weeks I thought I may have wished a little too hard, when I ended up in the hospital with 4 minute apart, painful Braxton hicks for over two hours. I wasn’t in labour this time, but the midwives and obgyn confirmed what I suspected, the signs were there that I would probably go early. So I was thrilled when an examination just before 37 weeks showed that I was already 1cm dilated, with my cervix ‘soft and favourable.’

Labour, here we come!

A few days later I was overjoyed when I woke up with more signs of labour, things were looking promising. I had a hair appointment that day and nervously sat in the chair, expecting my waters to break at any moment. It was all very exciting and dramatic, and potentially very Steel Magnolias. Except that nothing happened. But, on the upside, I was relieved to get my foils done before the birth photos, so all was not lost!

That afternoon my husband and I took a walk together, hoping to bring on labour just as it had done last time. Our son was at preschool so we enjoyed some lovely quiet time, talking about our expectations of the birth and meeting our baby. That night I arranged for my brother to stay over, so we didn’t have to disturb Jamison during the night. I made sure my bag was ready and I went to bed, assured I would wake up when my contractions kicked in.

There wasn’t much sleep to be had that night, but there weren’t any contractions to be had either. The next morning my brother greeted me nonchalantly with “No baby? What an anti climax.”

Couldn’t have said it better myself.

The following days went ridiculously slowly. Every day I was convinced this was the one and I would take a long walk, accompanied by strong and painful Braxton hicks that I was sure would turn into real labour. Because my first labour was so sudden and quick I have had no experience of ‘normal’ early labour, so I didn’t know what to expect and was constantly on alert. Accompanying lower back pain on the second day had me convinced it was the real thing and I pulled out of my friends 40th birthday dinner, again assured that the baby was on it’s way. Another anti-climax, coupled with the frustration that I missed a great night for nothing.

And now here I am, another week down and still nothing, as everyone I see reminds me whenever I leave the house. I know I shouldn’t complain, when I am not even full term, but I truly feel like I’m two weeks over due and the thought of carrying around this bowling ball for one more day is excruciating. I am so big I honestly don’t know how my belly can get any bigger without exploding. My pelvis is constantly sore, the pressure ‘down below’ is horrible, the Braxton hicks are painful and frustrating, often waking me up in the night. My feet are swollen, I can hardly walk, I can’t sleep and my patience is as thin as filo pastry.

Oh and on that note, Jamison’s testing behaviour seems to be increasing in direct parallel with my inability to cope with it. He is suddenly 4 going on 14 with an attitude to match and, while I know he just needs some attention and tough love to get through it, it’s all I can do just to manage his day to day care let alone navigate through an emotional milestone. The other day I actually prayed I would go in to labour just so I could have four days in the hospital and away from his tantrums. Alas, God did not grant my wish and there was no reprieve to be found.

I have gotten so desperate I have actually forgotten that I will have a baby at the end of this and that a week or so is really not a long time to wait for that amazing moment. My girlfriend, who has just had one herself so can vividly recall what the last few weeks felt like, had to remind me of this fact yesterday. I was thankful for that, as I was starting to imagine myself as the 80 year old pregnant woman! Funnily, when my husband reminded me of the same thing, asking why I wasn’t excited about being pregnant anymore, my reaction wasn’t quite as appreciative.

But, now that I have had a big whinge and gotten this all off my very inflated chest, I will carry on. Focusing on how lucky I am to be pregnant and getting through one long day at a time, knowing that my beautiful baby will be here soon. Please, please, please, let it be soon.

What were your last few weeks of pregnancy like, when you did you hit your emotional wall? Feel free to join me in a big whinge fest if you are experiencing them right now! Comment on Amity's blog.