The last weeks of pregnancy are very strange. Not only do I feel an intense need for pregnancy to be over, but it's almost completely overpowering. I can't focus on much else than nesting and preparing myself. Being someone who works from home, I assumed I could work up until the day I delivered. But suddenly, at about 36 weeks, it became incredibly taxing to think about work. It's not even hard work. The smallest, most mundane task that doesn't include preparing for Abraham is like asking me to run a marathon in my bare feet.
They say in the wild that mother animals go into a cave or far off place when they're ready to deliver. In fact, even animals at the zoo will halt their own labor until they get away from the crowds of people and hide in a safe place. I suppose my mind was telling my body it was time to find a cave. I've got a really nice cave with some unbelievably soft sheets and air conditioning. And today I finally turned on my work email's automatic responder and let all the clients know that it was time for me to retreat.
So at almost 3cm, 37.5 weeks, and other encouraging numbers as well, I am surrendering to the fact that this last phase of pregnancy could certainly last 3 weeks or more and there's not a darn thing I can do about it. First pregnancies go past due all the time. The worst part of it will be answering, "Yes," everytime someone asks me if I'm still pregnant until early September. But, if that's the worst part and I end up with a healthy, fully-cooked Abe, it's worth it.