Four More Days To Go!

Well on Tuesday I broke down. I’m less than a week away from being induced with this baby and I think the stress is definitely there, no matter how hard I try to push it away, it bursts forth at times and I can’t control it.
Tom was working Tuesday night, he didn’t even have time to come home for dinner, its finals week and he’s a ball of stress himself just trying to make it until Friday. So I was alone with the boys, and they had been having trouble listening, just really struggling at minding lately. It’s been frustrating, I’m hugely pregnant, exhausted, and trying to get things ready for Cyndee and baby to come.
So I grilled them out hot dogs and made some macaroni and cheese for dinner. Talin runs to the fridge and starts to get out the jar of pickles. I told him no, not tonight, we aren’t having pickles. My main reason being that I can’t stand the smell or look of pickles, but especially the smell, and especially being pregnant. So he puts them back. But when he puts them back he stacks them on top of other bottles on the side shelf of the door, so when I go to open up the fridge, the pickle jar falls to the floor, the lid pops open, and pickles and pickle juice goes everywhere! It starts to go under the fridge, and into the pantry, so I immediately grab a towel and try to stop the flood of juice as best I can, all the while screaming at the boys. I was so frustrated at this point, and so angry. I yelled at Talin that he would never be allowed to eat pickles again, and he sat there and sobbed, and then I screamed at Talin and Collin to leave me and go upstairs to their room. Then I sat on the floor in front of the refrigerator with the door open and just sobbed while I cleaned up the mess from the pickles. I cried and cried, my shoulders shook, it’s like all the exhaustion and frustration and worry poured out of me. And don’t get me wrong, I also sobbed because of the smell of the pickles, yuck. After awhile I got myself together and let the boys come down the stairs to eat their dinner, I think they were a little shocked at my complete breakdown. Then I called Tom and just talking about the disaster of it all made me cry even more, and every time I mentioned the smell of pickles I got even more emotional. He was so sweet and told me that when he got home that night he would move the fridge and clean up the juice underneath. I’m so grateful to have him; I don’t know what I would do without his continual support and understanding.

And on the other hand, I’m really kind of getting scared for this baby to come. Every mother and father hopes for one thing, and that is to have a healthy baby, and yet here is Tom and I, knowing that our baby will not be healthy when he’s born. It’s very upsetting and difficult to think about sometimes. I try to imagine how it will be when he is born, how he’ll be taken away, and how long it will take before I can see him. I’m frustrated with that. I want to hop out of the bed after I give birth and follow him down the hallway to the NICU. Obviously that’s not possible. Hopefully I can feel more at peace with this when the time comes. I’m trying to think of the positive things, the fact that he’s gained a lot of weight and that will be very helpful for him in medicating him and so forth. The fact that I won’t be pregnant in a week and that will be very nice too. Also, all the help that has been offered and that I’m receiving from my family. I’m so grateful that my mom is here and that Amy and JoDee will be coming as well. I couldn’t do all of this without so much support. They’ll be a huge help.
Now I’m just wondering if it would be too evil to go wake up Cyndee and start the day, she came in late last night and I’m so excited to have her here!