Signs that Mama Is Nearing the End

The end of her rope? The end of her sanity? No, the end of her pregnancy! (And maybe the first two things also . . .)

I don't know the details of how other women know they're nearing the ends of their pregnancies, but I'm five-for-five showing a pretty strong pattern. And I bet I'm not the only one!


Signs that Mama Is Nearing the End of her Pregnancy
The flutter of organization ends abruptly, being replaced by general malaise and lumpishness. Now I lazily think that nobody ever died from clutter on the floors, whereas my normal self believes quite strongly that we will all die if there are dirty clothes left on the floor.

I notice that, despite all my best efforts, the toddler in his pajamas at one o'clock in the afternoon. I decide to keep him in PJs for nap time. When he wakes, I don't see any point in changing the situation now, so let him wear them all day, including playing outdoors.

By only noon, my husband looks at me and realizes Mama won't be able to cook dinner and offers to do so for me.

My husband saw the state of the house (and my distress over it--as he doesn't mind), so he budgeted for housekeeping services for a few months. Even then, the night before they came, he steam-moped our disgusting kitchen floor, not because he much cared about the awful mess, but to save his wife her dignity as a homemaker!

Delivery pizza is planned for twice in this week's meal plan.

Even the two-year-old knows to remark that, once Mama slowly reaches the top of the stairs and sits down gasping, "Don't worry. Mama is just catching her breath."

Only one pair of my shoes still fit . . . and frankly they don't fit by the end of the day due to swelling.

My daughter asks me to count to 30 during her violin practice and I fall fast asleep instead.

It has been a couple of weeks since I've had enough energy to do my beloved bedtime reading to the children.

Soaking in an Epsom salt bath nightly to bring down swelling of the feet has lost its cachet and has become yet one more duty to check off the list.

I yearn for having a newborn who wakes me every hour or two because my sleep will be fabulously improved compared to how little I am getting now.

I'm completing the reading of a book every couple of days, and at least a movie daily, due to the aforementioned inability to sleep.

I wave the white flag, confessing that we really have stopped doing school as of this week and won't resume until the newborn is in my arms instead of in my belly.

I realize that, despite my best efforts, we have slouched into Survival Mode, which I had forgotten begins before a new baby arrives, not at his or her birth. All my energy must go into getting some food on the table (don't call it cooking), doing the laundry, and making sure the children survive the days. The hours in between all those activities are filled slowly but surely with the children

• watching too much TV while Mama lies there, 
• playing in the back yard while Mama lies there, and 
• making messes (and not cleaning them up) while Mama lies there. 

Please enjoy reading and laughing about "10 Things I Had Mercifully Forgotten about the Third Trimester of Pregnancy" from a better writer than am I: Simcha Fisher. Because if we can't laugh, we will cry. Boy-oh-boy, can I relate right now.