I knew going into it that this would likely be my hardest weekend of bed rest. There was so much planned for these days, and I can't do any of it. It was supposed to be my last weekend of my internship, and I was supposed to preach. However, Donald is probably preaching as I type. He called last night right after I fell asleep, which kept me up for an additional half hour because I was worried I had forgotten something I was supposed to have done. They were even going to have a reception for me between services, but that's obviously not happening. Even though I'll be going back to that church, potentially as our church, it's hard to miss these days.
After the second service, we were supposed to race off to our childbirth class, the one I scrambled to get in after screwing up the ones at the hospital. I had to email the leader last week to cancel, and thankfully she isn't charging anything since it's due to medical necessity. However, I'm back to not having a childbirth class, which means it's even more important for me to read and teach C myself. Plus, I'm not sure if I'll be able to get a tour of the birth center because I don't know for sure when I'll be off bed rest. So that combines disappointment with stress.
The biggest one is my parents being in town. They had planned this visit for a while so that they would be able to come see me preach and then help get things ready for baby. Instead, they are now doing everything without me. Yesterday, they took my list and went shopping, purchasing almost all of the final must-have items for Stretch. While I greatly appreciate their doing this, especially since they wouldn't let us pay for all of it, I hate that I had to miss out on that time of shopping with them. That excitement. Today, Mom's going to wash all the baby gear and clothes that need it, something else I was supposed to do. This also brings to mind all the other things I may not get to do: finish the nursery, freeze meals in advance, nest in general. Plus, since my parents are keeping busy doing things for me, I don't get to spend as much time with them, and it's a short visit as it is.
The whole situation depresses me. However, I've been proud of my ability to keep things in perspective. I haven't cried once about being on bed rest because rationally I know it's for a good cause. I'm trying to keep positive, and it seems to be working. Because even though I'm missing out on all these things I was supposed to do, I'm doing exactly what I should be doing: keeping Stretch an inside baby until he's ready.
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