Nesting gone wrong

Once when I was pregnant, I dreamed all night long that I needed a hair cut. I did need a trim, truth be told. I woke up, sort of, the next morning and grabbed some scissors and began to hack at my hair. About 5 minutes in, I woke up the rest of the way when I looked down into a sink full of long hair. Panicking, I called a hair dresser-friend to make an appointment for her to fix it later that day.

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Nesting takes on a whole different meaning when you are planning a home birth. There are things to prepare, and instead of "bringing the baby home" you are already home when the baby arrives. In fact, it is pretty important to have the house tidy so that as you are in labor and birthing there is room for the midwives and their equipment. I have been to a home birth where, due to an early delivery, time had not been taken to clean up the place. I remember scooping up piles of laundry from the floor in her room and trying to clear a messy dresser so that the midwife could set up.

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I usually nest somewhere in the middle end of pregnancy when I can still move. And breathe. And think. Here, four weeks from my due date, I usually have things pretty ready. Usually.

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Somehow I got it into my head that, instead of a tidy room or a sparkling clean kitchen, I needed to repaint the boys room. I had begun a huge mural project several years ago that I gave up on and much to my shame, it has remained that way ever since.

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My friend said she loved to paint. I figured that between the two of us we could knock the whole thing out in a day and a half.

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Ha.

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I "woke up" about half way through the second day of this project, as I, wearing a t-shirt that doesn't cover my belly all the way, and a pair of Guy's old painting shorts with the waist band pulled down low, scooted on a skateboard on my bum painting the bottom section of the wall. I was/am completely useless. I wear out in an hour and have to go lie down. Joanna came for two days and between her, Guy and her husband they have done most of it. I am really embarrassed that I even started this whole mess. We still aren't done.

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To make matters worse, my midwife checked me last week and it would seem that all of the contractions I am having are actually doing things. I am warming up, as it were, and more "ripe" than I was the day I went into labor with Adam.

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Here is the problem. My living room looks like the boys department of a thrift store, as do several other rooms in the house. I have let the laundry slide and about a billion other things.

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I have succeeded in un-feathering my nest.

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At least the boy's room will look nice.

Maybe I will have the baby in there.

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