33 Weeks and My Shoes Don't Fit

Walking home from the train last night, I began to realize one of the reasons I haven't been writing much lately is because I'm becoming a bit emotionally distant from this pregnancy.  It's a self-protective thing.  Suddenly the weeks are flying by, and as my due date draws near I'm starting to get nervous.  Scared, in fact.  My life is about to change dramatically in ways I can't even begin to anticipate.  I know I can handle it, I know I want it.  And still, time feels like it's moving too fast.

I've been coping by avoiding my emotional self.  I haven't really been connecting with the little one, thinking about giving birth, or grounding myself to get ready for this next big moment in my life.  Sure, I've been preparing.  Logistically.  By dealing with "stuff."  Organizing stuff, buying stuff, planning stuff, reading stuff, thinking about stuff.  I am constantly busy and moving at a million miles an hour.  There is so much to DO DO DO during the next few weeks, and too few days left in which to do them. Only nine / eight / seven weeks left!  I still have energy!  Must buyacarseat / packahospitalbag / getnursingbras / cookandfreezemeals / findapediatrician and on and on and on.

Yet at 33 weeks, it seems that my body just won't let me keep moving forward in this disconnected manner.  During the past few days, I've been feeling noticeably more tired.  Two days ago I came home from work and my hands and feet were painfully swollen.  This morning I woke up and found out that none of my shoes fit.  I desperately tried on pair after pair in a frustrated attempt to figure out what the heck to wear in the bitter cold.  I couldn't build a warm, work-appropriate outfit with barely any clothes that accommodate my growing belly and no damn shoes!

So I started crying.  10 minutes before I had to leave the house.  Not the most opportune moment for my pent-up emotions to emerge, but I was triggered and it was hard to stop feeling the enormity of my body's physical changes.  I finally rushed to the train in a pair of widely-laced sneakers, forcing back tears, my mind spinning.  I know I need to slow down, breathe, meditate, feel.  I want to start thinking about the birthing process, to envision how I want it to look, to express my needs and desires, to prepare my mind and heart go through such an enormous, life changing experience.  I hope I can create the time for myself to do the emotional work.  But first, I have to go out and buy myself a pair of new shoes.