35 weeks pregnant, the baby was the size of a bunch of carrots and, I can finally write these words, it was my last week in work. I can’t tell you how ready I was to finish and how surreal it actually feels writing this knowing I’m not going back any time soon. I’m covering up my excitement pretty well I think.
I’m actually late in writing this (according to my own loose schedule) as I’ve spent the weekend comatose on the sofa with a mother of all colds. The husband also had his own version (the man version) so it was a wipe out of a weekend, and I couldn’t even bring myself to scroll through Instagram let alone pick up a laptop and write.
It was that classic thing of once you stops it hits you – I haven’t been ill at all throughout pregnancy, or had a single day off sick from work, and after powering through the last 8 months the second I mentally started to slow down a little, those 8 months caught up with me two days before I finished work. I made it though, handovers done, laptop handed in, gifts gratefully received, and now I’m ready to rest and prepare myself for what’s to come.
The garland on my desk last Friday when I got to the office summed it up perfectly…
No more 6am starts (I know, this will seem like a lie in soon), no more motorway traffic – I even set money aside over the weekend to get my car cleaned for the first time in months now I’m not going to be on that dreaded and dirty M62 every day. This isn’t my way of celebrating by the way, we went for a Thai meal with my parents on Friday night, partly to celebrate and partly to try and sweat out the cold before it could take hold. It failed.
It was actually a lovely week mostly thanks to my team, three young ladies who I’ve managed for the last 12-18 months and who actually cried real tears as they saw me off on Friday. Sad tears, not happy. I think.
We had a team trip for our first Autumn spiced latte of the year, we went for a meal at Cau where they told me all the office gossip that you totally miss out on once you hit a certain level, and they bought me some gorgeously generous gifts, all of which made it a special week.
I of course showed my appreciation by a little gift-giving of my own, which centred around hand creme from The White Company and some pretty gold monogrammed mugs (a good mug is like gold dust in our work).
In actual baby news, little Lynch is doing well in there and not causing me any real trouble. Moving lots, I’m still getting heartburn and feet in the lungs, and this SPD (the pelvic syndrome) is a little painful at times but nothing compared to how some women suffer with is as I understand.
I keep forgetting I’m going to have a baby. I’m not sure how normal this is and I’m hoping that now I’m on maternity leave I’ll get absorbed into all things baby and it will start to feel real. I desperately want to make the most of pregnancy and my time off before the baby comes but the last 8 months have passed in a flash and I’m not sure what to do to make sure I really soak up every second. I think I’m over thinking it, I’m sure once it’s sunk in that I am actually off work for this reason and not just on a sick day or taking some holidays I’ll start to chill out and enjoy myself. Or maybe baby will arrive before I even get to that point and none of it will matter anymore anyway!