Today, at 26 weeks and 6 days of pregnancy, I am officially 2/3rds of the way through. That means that if you’re going by the math instead of by the confusing other methods, today is the first day of the 3rd trimester. I’m now in the final stage of pregnancy. The end is near, my friends.
It’s funny because thought it seems like years ago that I got the first (and second and fifth) positive pregnant test(s), I also feel like labor is still years away. That might be a defense mechanism to not have to worry about it just yet, but the big day is only about 13 weeks away now. I vacillate between excited and overwhelmed by all the things we have left to do.
I have had absolutely zero impulses toward nesting yet, and honestly, knowing myself as well as I do, I struggle to imagine that I ever will. Nesting sounds like a really fancy way of saying cleaning. And I am lazy. But even still, the nursery isn’t quite finished, and the only reason it’s as far along as it is, is because of my husband’s obsessive compulsive need to have it done, which have been in hyper-drive since before Christmas. I honestly struggle to guess what he’ll be able to nag me about once the nursery is done. I’m only kind of kidding.
Though I have now signed us up for classes on childbirth and breastfeeding, they are still a few weeks off, which is good, because I need a bit more time to be in denial. Even though I’m putting it off as long as I can, I truly think there may not be enough time in the world to actually prepare for labor. If preparation is even really possible.
We have the name of a babysitter that we need to call and hope that no one has booked her for when we’ll be needing one this summer. She takes care of several of our friends’ kids, and the price is really, really right. We should probably get on that.
And maybe getting a stroller and other essential baby gear. I hear they have to ride in something fancy in the car?
More than anything else, things are feeling more real than ever. It’s no longer something that’s way off in our future. It’s no longer when we have kids because we know when. It’s no longer if we have a son, it’s a rapidly approaching reality. In some ways, reaching the final stage of pregnancy is terrifying, in others, it’s exhilarating.
The things we’ve dreamed about for so long are just weeks from coming true. The baby we’ve been feeling and have seen on ultrasounds is just weeks from coming home and changing our lives. And while I’m balancing the excitement with the terror, I secretly cannot wait.
13 more weeks. I think I can, I think I can.