Last weekend's lovely stay at the hospital shook me up more than I realized. I was so uncomfortable, so miserable, so weak, and so very, very afraid that my icky health was going to make Drew show up earlier than he was supposed to. All the confidence that the childbirth classes had built up got swatted away in 24 short hours. I spent most of this week unable to build up the energy or desire to do much of anything. Spent a lot of time staring off into space. All the horrid news from New Orleans didn't help matters, either. Everytime I got a glimmer of life going back into me, I'd see the latest headline and go crashing. Especially when they mentioned the pregnant women or those who had just given birth struggling to get out of the city.
So I spent today clearing the gunk out of my head, catching up on some rest and relaxation, finally getting a hair cut after nearly a year without, trying out a new body wash scent (hmmm....cherry blossom). Taking care of me without a whole lot of references to the outside world or Andrew's impending arrival. In fact, the only pregnancy sort of thing I did today was rub my belly as the little runt within squirmed and shuffled and stretched. It was a good recharging day, something I needed.
Now I've still got a three-day weekend to do some work in the nursery, clean the house up a bit, do the laundry, and buckle down into some writing. I'm not going to let myself start spinning with worry about going into labor or tragedies beyond my control elsewhere in the world. I'm going to focus on the things I can do right now. Go back to that whole "day-by-day" living thing I was trying to do better as a New Year's Resolution to begin with.