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I am really starting to get impatient

June 15, 2006

I was up all night last night, not because of any sort of contractions (which still have not commenced, much to my dismay), but because I was hacking up a lung. Apparently, I must have caught some sort of cold. Just what I need, to get sick when I could go into labor at any moment. I’ve spent the day in bed, resting and drinking ridiculous amounts of fluids, trying to knock this bad boy out.

I’m getting continually frustrated that nothing is happening as far as the baby goes. I go back to the doctor in the morning and I am half tempted to accept his offer to break my water and be done with all of this, but I won’t. I can’t. If I were having contractions, I suppose that would be another story.

My mom keeps telling me to relax, that she’ll come when she’s ready. Everyone is telling me to be patient and I swear I’m going to rip the head off of the next person that says it to me. The doctor never should have told me he changed my due date. I wouldn’t be a crazy pregnant woman just yet if I knew I had another week to go instead of just a day.

Last night, as I dug through the drawers looking for my medicine spoon, I started screaming at my mom because my jade chopsticks that I had bought at a brewfest shortly after I first moved to Seattle had gotten broken somehow. I’m sure that they have been in the drawer broken for some time, but I guess I felt it necessary to blame my poor mom at 4:30 in the morning. I also yelled at her for putting my measuring spoons away in the wrong drawer, not rinsing the dishes before putting them in the dishwasher, trying to make me drink another cup of tea just after I had finished the last one, and leaving the computer on all night. This was all before breakfast. I hope my coworkers appreciate the fact that I decided not to go to work today.

I’m blaming my insane crabbiness on the heat and the pregnancy, but really, it’s just me being impatient and nothing more. I want to see my baby, I want to be a mom now. I know that I need to wait it out, but the waiting is making me stir crazy. I’ve done everything that needs to be done. The laundry is clean, the bottles are washed, the crib and bassinet are dressed and ready to go. My bags are packed and full of everything I’ll need at the hospital from snacks to nursing bras to Gilmore Girls and Friends DVD’s. The bills are paid, the house is clean, the fridge is stocked. There is nothing left to do and it is making me stark raving mad.

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