So we’re back home, the mafia and the patient and the status quo pretty much continues. 21st is the date we’re trying to get to, with everyone’s sanity and the baby inside intact. Is funny how life has been reduced (/elevated) to a wait for her but the whole point is for her to not come before she’s strong and healthy enough.
And meanwhile I’m sitting on the couch getting frustrated at the fact that the new place is hardly set up (it is the opposite of set up, with cartons everywhere and things still in boxes and amma still making do with the hanky for a tea sieve coz the two that we have haven’t made their appearance). Of course it is nobody’s fault, amma has the kitchen neat and functional but the rest of the house is still in boxes. And between work and a 100 errands Vin hasn’t had the time. (and since this is my blog and my say, I might add, lacks the inclination). I had a 100 ideas for the house when we took it, for plants and paintings and photos and to see it like this and not be able to lift a finger is stressing me out.
And let’s face it, between Vin and I, I’m the worker, the one with any amount of energy at all to get things done. If he had a choice Vin would spend his whole life on a couch with his feet up. And right now, with me out of action he has enough on his plate to have time or energy to unpack the house.
The other thing is that the nursery ain’t ready either, and this for a kid that is threatening to come early. Yeah I know, the kid prolly doesn’t care and all it’d want is the milk booth (aka me) and diapers (even the diapers are for the world’s sake not hers) but what with the preterm scare and all that God knows if we’ll do this another time (although I still very much want to, even if a few months of lying on bed is what it takes, but when the Doc lectured us on what this means for the next baby Vin said all the info is good by way of general knowledge). And for my fancy I wanted the nursery and the rocking chair and all the jing bang
I guess now might be a time for me to learn some patience and humility and to learn to let go, now that I’m on the threshold of motherhood. Will come in handy for the next, what, 25 years? (Or more if you ask the mother who’s visiting the 29 year old daughter).