Nesting Mania

I'm a Mad Nester. Usually the so-called "nesting instinct" hits me somewhere around the 7-month mark of my pregnancies, and continues to gain strength until I am slightly manic about the whole thing. I seem to be following my regular pattern, which is to finish every.single.task around my house (including taking a magic eraser to every wall!) and branch out to other people's houses. Today I am 37 weeks pregnant and after I take the kids to the gym for a while (so I can take my basketball belly on a treadmill ride) I am going to my friend's house to do all her laundry.

I get so sad thinking about the end being so near. I know I will miss being pregnant. I know this is my last (barring any unforseen Divine intervention), and I know I am not a fan of the "newborn stage." Thanks to Tylenol p.m., I am sleeping blissfully through the night (I think I am even sleeping when I take my 25 trips to the bathroom). Thanks to Protonix, I am even sleeping in the prone position (as opposed to ramrod straight in a chair to lessen the effects of heartburn). Thanks to God, I am just not that uncomfortable. I love this belly and all the kicks and tumbles inside. I love eating like a horse. I love being offered the comfy chair at all my Bible Studies. I do not look forward to a lifetime of counting calories and worrying about sucking in my 18 extra rolls of flab on my abs.

At the same time, of course, I long to meet this little child and to welcome him into the family. I want to count his fingers and toes and make sure he is healthy. I want to watch the other kids love on their little brother. My husband daydreams about moving out of the baby stage and eliminating all bottles and diapers from this house. And I admit I can't wait to sleep without the durned body pillow and eat without burping myself into oblivion.

Well, I obviously lied when I said I wouldn't always talk so much.