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OK, with only 23 days left to go, I am willing to say that I'm tired now. I'm tired of needing 4 pillows to prop me into a possible sleeping position. I'm tired of waking hourly to turn over to alleviate the pain in my hips. I'm tired of Braxton-Hicks contractions that are just widely-spaced enough not to be early labour (four hours is the longest gap I've had since Friday; 25 minutes is the shortest). I'm tired of not being able to wear my wedding amd engagement rings, of having to have someone else lace up my boots, of spending minutes getting each sock on, of laundering underwear every day because there's no point buying more than three sets of expensive maternity underwear.
I'm dreading shopping for nursing bras. I'll have to do that tomorrow, and I don't want to.
I want to curl into a ball and sleep until labour actually starts, and not sit around wondering whether this contraction is important, or maybe the pain in my back is back labour, and the books say that this stomach upset might be an early labour symptom, and... It doesn't help that my mother always gave birth early, and Rob was 10 days early, and my niblings were early, but I may still be typical and go the full 40 weeks and 3 days that's apparently "average". I can't tell whether I'm being practical and cautious, given family history, or paranoid, given my natural tendency to plan for the worst.
It doesn't help that contractions woke me at 4:30 and I didn't get back to sleep and now we have people working in the attic and I can't crawl back into bed.
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