As I finish my 32nd week of pregnancy, and start into my 33rd, I can't help but think that it was only 2 weeks from this point that my son was born in my last pregnancy.  At the most I have 1 month left... at the least.... who knows... I'm trying to enjoy what is almost certainly going to be the last time I ever feel a pregnancy in my belly, but its hard - really hard.
Every single thing... even the really small stuff that should be of no concern to me, given what has happened so far, is building.  I declare I am officially stressed!  First, I got a collection notice in the mail from my doctor's office for $125 even though I've only received two $25 bills since they started my care, both of which I promptly went online and paid.  Then there was the notice from my county that my property taxes, which were due on May 1st, were never paid, yet my mortgage company took the money out of my escrow account.  Oh yeah, and there's the light over my desk at work rattles for the past three days, and with each rattle I feel like I'm losing a small part of whatever sanity I may or may not have had left. 

Then there is the baby prep... the crib is put together, and I actually washed some of the little clothes this week, but...
My bag is not packed...
There is no car seat in my car...
We have no diapers, and no wipes in the house...
The baby's room is pretty much a mess...
I can't find my Moby wrap...
My breast pump tubes were shot, and I need new ones...
I have no nursing bras...
My receiving blankets have gone missing...

I could go on and on.  But you get the idea.
All of this is slowly pushing me over the edge.  If you see a half-crazed woman around town... wave... it's me!

Then there was yesterday.  I actually had to put myself in a time out, in the dark, in my room, alone, so that I could try to remove the headache and some of the stress, as I neared a panic attack.  I think it must have started as I toured the NICU at the hospital yesterday.  I smelled "that smell"... you know... the one that smells of half nasty soap and half hand sanitizer.  Or maybe you don't because you've never had to experience your baby in the hospital.  Lucky you (I'm trying to say that without sounding snarky, but its not working is it?)  It's a smell that sends me, every single time... even now over 4 years later. 

Or... maybe it was meeting with neonatologist yesterday to try and have some understanding of what would happen at and after our daughter's birth.  Here was the doctor, looking at me with some sort of awe, and saying "wow... you've been on a real roller coaster."  And then... she started saying my baby's name... her real name, over and over again as she explained what would occur, how MRIs and echo cardiograms would be done, what type of recovery we could expect from a brain surgery.  It was sort of surreal hearing someone else use her name, like she is a real baby.  Yes... I have denial, would you expect anything less?

Or... maybe it was the traffic jam I got stuck in on the way home, while I knew "L" had his last swimming lesson very soon, and I moved about 1/2 a mile in 15-20 minutes.

I don't know what it was, but it caused me to curl up in a ball in the dark in my room by 6:30 last night, and just need the silence. 

So yeah... You could say I'm a little stressed at 33 weeks.  It definitely should make for a great blood pressure tomorrow!