It’s Monday, 21 November, 2011. In 11 days I’ll be rolling up to Peterborough City Hospital to undergo a c-section to bring Bebe into our world. 12 days ago I was sitting in a consultant’s office at the same hospital being slightly disappointed over having our c-section scheduled 3 weeks away. What kind of idiot am I?
In the past 12 days I’ve welcomed family reinforcements in the form of my Dad and stepmom, we’ve transformed 2 bedrooms in our upstairs and ticked off a few more items from the Bebe shopping list. I’ll be blogging about our Project Changing Rooms this week but suffice it to say, the rooms look AWESOME! Ella is thoroughly enamoured of her new Big Girl room and I think our newly made over master bedroom looks like a boutique hotel. I’ve even revelled in organising, throwing out and sorting. Nesting…it’s joyful!
However, on Saturday I had a right proper Mummy meltdown over the most ridiculous thing ever. I apparently needed a release of some sort. Mark and Ella had let me have a lie-in on Saturday morning so I didn’t end up downstairs until the 8:00 hour for a change. I did some work on the laptop and then we started getting ready for the day. I wandered into the kitchen to find Mark struggling with emptying the rubbish bin. Emptying the rubbish bin is one of my least favourite jobs and I tend to stuff too much into it making it most difficult to get out of the bin. I took Mark’s bin aggravation and muttering personally and stormed out of the kitchen, STOMPED (like a child) up the stairs and SLAMMED the door to the bathroom. I turned the water on to run a bath and then sat down on the floor and SOBBED. Great big huge tears, hiccuping and everything. What a bloomin’ nana!
Mark came upstairs after I managed to extricate myself from the bath and I totally broke down again. Everything feels so overwhelming! **whinge alert** I am tired, can’t seem to sleep well at all, have ridiculous heartburn 90% of the time, am uncomfortable, look like the prow of a ship and despite being disappointed with the former 3 weeks of time I had, am freaking out about the 11 days I have left. Hence the meltdown.
Bless his cotton socks, Mark was so lovely with me. He cuddled me, calmed me, sat me down and talked through all of the issues I’m having. We’ve written out a list, cheered the tasks we’ve accomplished and helped me to look at everything RATIONALLY and not EMOTIONALLY. I suppose also weighing on my mind is Ella as well. She’s so excited about Bebe coming soon. She was “helping” to get Bebe’s room ready last night; organising all of the teeny toys in the Moses basket and tidying up the room in her very special way. I’m also devastated to have learned last week that I will be missing Ella’s first Christmas concert at preschool. Their concert is being held on Saturday 3 December, one day after Bebe is due to be delivered. So while Ella and the rest of my family are attending Ella’s first concert, I’ll be in hospital, on my own with Bebe. Weep.
The next 11 days are going to FLY by, I know. I’m grateful to have this blog to share my freak outs with you so please pardon my mutterings for the next short while. I’m back to nesting in a few hours as I’m writing this post at 3:30am…no 3am Feeding Club for me YET, just my ridiculousness.