28 Weeks of Pregnancy Completed!

I am starting to breath some much needed sighs of relief. Holding my breath for the last six months has not been easy. Patting myself on the back, just a little bit, as I enter the third trimester, is a nice feeling. I even ate a whole Cadbury fruit and nut chocolate bar to celebrate. Let's face it, being pregnant at age 46 is considered high risk. And I didn't take that label lightly.  Getting through to this stage was done by living each day as conscientiously carefully as I could (except the hurricane, illegal boat, bike riding episodes). I really didn't allow myself to jump with glee over being pregnant at such an advanced age because, yes, things could have gone wrong. But now - although I am still not out of the woods until I am holding the swaddling babe in my arms - I can rejoice about the impending birth. Last night, I brought my bin up from the basement labeled "infant clothes". I have kept all my daughter's clothes and most of her baby toys...just in case. Because I wanted a second child. And most mothers keep everything when they want a second child. I just didn't think it was going to happen to me. And it has and I am beyond belief! We didn't know our daughter's gender, so the infant clothes are gender neutral. The two grandmothers are anxious to know what we need. I had refused to even think about it. But now that 28 weeks are completed, I have a lot to think about. What is the sex of the baby inside me? No clue. And that will be a blog for next week! To find out or not to find out....that is the question.  What is my birth plan? What furniture do I need? What do I take to the hospital? Which relatives do I ask to come and help me (I'll need as much help as possible!)? How do I prepare my daughter for when I am in the hospital? Where should I set up the crib in my one-bedroom apartment? Oh my gosh, I need a stroller! Okay, I am starting to freak out. There are too many things to consider. I want to go back to the second trimester when I didn't have to think about any of these things at all. I just hung out with my expanding belly and was in a blissful, care-free world.  Now I have a million things to do. I have to house clean. The stove top needs scrubbing. What will my mom have for breakfast at my apartment when I am at the hospital? She doesn't know the subway system. She doesn't know where I keep the Fantastic spray. What if she can't find the coffee mugs? Stop it! Stop it! I have got to take one day at a time and breath normally. Should I even let my mind travel three months ahead and acknowledge that my life is going to drastically be altered? Or should I continue to rub my belly every day and night and thank my lucky stars. The latter seems more easy and fun. I'm sticking with that.