It is funny what the mind does when you are left alone for long stretches with not much mental stimulation and nothing physically active to keep you busy. I used to be really into working out (2 hours a day in college - oh, those were the days) and also got into triathlons a little bit later, but then with grad school and teaching, I had to cut back my workouts to only a few times a week. I am DYING to get back on the treadmill and lift weights. DYING. Even swimming or riding the recumbent bike would work for me. I am so thankful that I can walk alongside Jason and the pups for 10 minutes a day. My job is also very stimulating and busy - I would come home with work most nights and keeping up with and meeting the learning needs of 20 five-year-olds is a huge mental challenge, which I loved. Plus my kids are super funny and entertaining, so my world is so much more interesting when I am at work. I am begging my friends to bring me grading, which is totally psycho, but I seriously would pay to look at cute little handwriting and read their cute little stories.
My saving grace is McSexy. Without him, I would die. I know I must be terribly boring and a pain to wait on, but he never complains, and sits around with me all evening, even though I know he wants to go to the gym or get out and about. I count down the hours until he gets home, partly to hear him talk about Noah and how excited he is (okay, and maybe to hear about how pretty I am and to get the sweets he brings me). He says that all he is going to do when the baby gets here is hold him and change his diapers and play with him. He can't wait. I try to keep that image in my head, of him with the baby, of us with the baby, to get through the days, because I am having a hard time imagining or getting excited about Noah actually arriving (which is so horrible to say, I am going to Hell, ugh). I am not sure why. I want him here so bad, but I also feel like I should be more bonded to him than I am. I guess partly that I STILL don't want to bond, or am afraid to bond, until I actually have him in my arms and we are both intact and whole. I still think that this can't really be happening to me, that my body will still fail me completely, and something will happen to him, especially since the pregnancy has been so physically rough. Is this normal or just a constant side effect of my baby I lost? I dunno. I don't doubt that I will be completely obsessed with him once he is here (um, have you seen me with my DOGS???) but I feel like I should be more obsessed with him NOW. I am not scared of being a parent or that I won't know what to do or be incompetent (3 1/2 years of infant caregiving and nannying removed that feeling I think completely) so I am not quite sure what it is. I think just not trusting that he will be healthy and maybe partly that even when this is SUPPOSED to be over, it won't be over, at least pain wise, because of the c-section and all that.
I am not complaining, just processing. Okay, maybe complaining a bit. And counting down the minutes (4 more weeks give or take). Oh, Lawdy.
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