9 weeks!?!

So I made it through the first trimester, the second trimester, and even most of the third before things really started to hit me. Most of it was due to meeting with my doctor. I'd go to my appointment. He'd check the baby's heart rate. Ask me if I had any questions and tell me to schedule another appointment in two weeks. Nice, normal routine. Way easier to ignore that at some point in the near future I'd be going through labor and directly following I'd have one of the largest responsibilities of my life handed to me.

I tell people all the time that Fielding and I started out with cats because people ask WAY fewer questions if you screw that up than a child. (No, this doesn't mean I'm a terribad kitty mom or that I'd ever truly advocate anything like that. Just in case someone thought that.) I mean let's face it a child is a HUGE responsibility. One too many teenyboppers jump into without realizing the impact it has on their life and decisions. Yes, it can be done and successfully at that, but that doesn't mean it's easy by any means (regardless of what age you become a mother).

Anyhow, back to the story at hand.

I went in to the doctor's office for a routine checkup. Just like normal. Nope. As Fielding and I are getting ready to leave the doctor tells me I've got 9 weeks left. 9 weeks!?!? What!?! That has got to be wrong. I haven't been pregnant nearly long enough. (Not that I was celebrating being unable to wear my normal clothes or tossing and turning each night.) Where in the world had the time gone? I was supposed to have 10 months (40 weeks) to prepare for this and I was NOT ready. So what do I do? I ignore it.

Yes, it's what I do with major stress in my life. Deal with it in little pieces or freak out. I think part of me was hoping it would all just be a blur that worked out, and for the most part it was. There were a few things that stuck out to me though as the last 9 weeks dwindled away.

• My ankles and hands finally really started swelling. *sigh* I wore hiking shoes pretty much the remainder of my pregnancy. I can't believe my love of shoes was conquered by swollen ankles. (Oh, and I took my rings off before they had to be cut off.)
  
• EVERYONE seems to ask you how long you've got left. The closer you get to your due date the more details they seem to want. Any progress? Any baby yet? You're still here?
  

A) WHY would I want to describe to you what my innards are doing? I'm pretty sure you don't need an update or stats card to determine that at some point in the near future I'd be giving birth to a baby. (Yes, this question bothers me a great deal. I think mostly because I don't tell some of my closest friends information like this. WHY would I share it with people I barely know?)
B) Nope, no baby yet. If there was a baby or if I was in labor (contractions or water breaking) I HIGHLY doubt I'd be at work or pretty much anywhere other than home or a hospital.
C) Yup, still here. I'll be here until the baby decides to make an appearance and until that point in time I can still do everything I feel like doing. Shopping, movies, dinner, cards. All of that stuff.

• My mind. My poor mind really started to go during the last month of my pregnancy. I could remember SAT words, but couldn't remember the generic layman term. Yes, it made me feel like a bigger dork because of that.
  
• The last thing I really remember about my pregnancy was that I still thought it would take longer. There seemed to be (and there was) a million things I (and Fielding) hadn't yet done around the house. (Her room was still a mess and needed to be organized.) I was trying to figure out when to bless her.

Oh, and did I mention that I STILL didn't feel ready to 'give birth'? I had looked at the different classes, but didn't think any of them would genuinely assist me with what I needed. (Mostly I was looking for a way for the stork to deliver her like FedEx or for her to magically show up on my doorstep. WAY easier to imagine then the logisitics.)

Sadly, I was able to remain in this delusional place for about...5 more weeks. Once again my doctor ruined it for me. I went in for another routine appointment for him to check my progress and figured he'd just say to schedule another appointment one week out. (Yes, they increase in frequency the closer you get to your deliver date.) Nope. Instead he asks me how I'd like to have a baby this weekend. Um, NO!?! Outside of the fact that 'not ready, not ready' is running rampantly through my mind. I've still got at least two or three weeks left. First babies are notoriously late. AND the stats he'd given did NOT encourage me in the least that I'd be having a baby that quickly. Luckily, I got my appointment scheduled and didn't have a baby that weekend. Instead I got to wait a couple more weeks. (I think. My memory really is going.)

**I do have to state a bit of a disclaimer about my doctor. He was genuinely amazing and I'd recommend him to anyone regardless of the 'frightening' comments he made to me. He answered all of my questions and never made me feel like I was being stupid. He also gave me all kinds of suggestions and listened to what I wanted (even if it didn't turn out that way).