Growth Spurt
Thursday, January 21st, 2010When I was making breakfast this morning and reaching in the fridge for my orange juice, I happened to notice the expiration date on the half & half: 03/15/2010. March fifteenth? But – that’s my due date! Did I lose track of time? Did I sleep away a couple dozen days?
No, nothing so drastic. It’s just that the half & half is good for quite awhile. Fifty-three more days to be exact (if left unopened).
But that split second was enough to scare me. Am I ready for all this? Is the baby really coming soon? Why hasn’t the realtor had any new news about the house we’ve put a bid on? Do short sales always take this long? Will we be bringing this baby into the world while living out of one bedroom of my parent’s house? Do I still have time to get all the stuff I really need to have for the baby – somewhere to sleep and a car seat and diapers and Lord-only-know-what-else-because-I-sure-as-hell-don’t-know-what-I’m-doing?
And this afternoon a package arrives bearing a baby gift. It’s exciting and sweet and I’m flattered that an out-of-state friend would take the time to send something, though it somehow feels awkward to be accepting gifts for a little person who’s still mostly a mystery to me. I’m thrilled about all the cute baby stuff, but there’s still a little voice way back in my brain asking, “Why are people giving us all these presents?”
I know the answer, of course, but that doesn’t make it any less surreal.
Everything seems to be moving so fast that I’m glad to announce that at least my weight gain has stabilized to a more traditional expectation. Two weeks ago I had been feeling really heavy and huge and quite a few people had been commenting that I had suddenly “popped” and gotten much bigger, but I was still surprised to hear the OBGYN techs tell me that I had gained nine pounds in four weeks. Nine pounds? In four weeks? No wonder I felt bloated and uncomfortable. That’s quite a growth spurt.
But after another two weeks, the tech reported a weight-gain of only two pounds. Two pounds I can handle – that’s a pound a week, which is what the doctors had told me to expect. But that still leaves me with another seven weeks and potential seven more pounds to look forward to when I’m already growing out of some of my smaller maternity tops and walking into doorframes and countertops because I keep forgetting how much of me (and her) there now is.
It’s scary enough that we’re bringing a new little child into this world, but it’s even scarier that before she’s even arrived, everything else has already changed.