I didn't feel any nesting when I was pregnant the first time around. Then, at about two weeks before I gave birth, I finally got a yaya, got her room ready, prepared my hospital bag, and went out and bought a crib. That wasn't nesting, though--that was suddenly realizing that the show was about to start and I can't dilly-dally any longer.
With Wiggle, I thought I'd feel the same way, especially since there's nothing to prepare really since we already have Vito's things. It was actually Vince who was nesting--he really wants a carpenter to fix up the house, have a professional wash all the curtains, etc. I took note of all his wishes and promised him I will get to it as soon as I am up to it. See? No nesting at all.
But surprise, surprise! This week, I finally felt it. Actually, I felt its full force hit me, because in hindsight, it's been creeping up on me all along. I think it began in late January, with the Moses basket, which I bought a few days after I wrote that post. Then I suddenly started selling and giving away things around February because I wanted to (1) make space for the new arrival and (2) make money for the inevitable costs a new baby comes with. Then this month, when Ethan Allen had its design contest and I saw a chance to have my dream bedroom setup for my family, I joined.
This week was when the withdrawal emotions hit. If you have a pet mommy cat or mommy dog (or watch Nat Geo at least), you'd know what I mean. You know how when an animal is about to give birth, it goes into hiding? Well, that's how I'm feeling now--I want to stop all forms of communication with the outside world, hide in the bedroom and wait in silence. It's driving me crazy because of course I still have magazine work, blogging responsibilities and other societal obligations!
Not just that, sometimes, I even feel like hiding away from Vito! I just want to be alone with Wiggle and prepare for his arrival. I just want everything to be utterly quiet for my little baby. And since that is completely impossible, I'm going nuts. I am dreading post-partum depression because, having gone through it before, I recognize it with alarm. I am already feeling its cold, sad fingers, yes even now when I haven't even given birth yet.
I do feel joy and anticipation for Wiggle. In fact, I can't stand the excitement! I want to see him and hold him! But I also feel sadness that I can't welcome him the way I want to--quietly, secretly. I think I feel this way because Wiggle's life started so precariously. I bled so much, until the fourth month. I never knew if he was going to stick around or go. This pregnancy was emotionally draining. Plus, there's stress from everywhere! I feel like my baby is threatened by all these outside stresses. And I guess that's what makes me so protective of Wiggle.
Protective or not, I know I won't be able to have the secret birth I want anyway. I am already dreading the fanfare, the pressures of social media announcements, the obligations of a religion I am not a member of. As the due date approaches, I get more excited. I also get sadder because I know I can't escape the inevitable. I just can't. People won't understand.
Did anyone else feel this way? Did you want to have a quiet birth and savor your sweetheart and keep him all to yourself? Or does every expectant mother in the world want to throw a huge party as soon as they pop out the baby?