Jan 19, 2011

Heavy lifting


Is the word that describes my week. Oh, sure, on occasion I manage to raise enough energy to bound along to the hospital (for two hours of waiting in line), do some knitting (my little boy needs warm pants), or get on with work.

But mostly, I've been feeling tired. I though the last month of pregnancy would be full of nervous excitement in anticipation of baby-boy's arrival. Sometimes, I do feel that way. But mostly, the thought of getting up and lugging my body (+38lbs) around is more than I can bear. Especially when it's super-cold outside, and it surely has been this week and will be again.

All in all, this makes me very glad that my brother is coming to visit for a week. Of course, I'll be jealous that he gets to go off and snowboard. Last year, we went together and he taught me how. But I also have a list of things for him to help out with: putting up some blinds, painting the baby corner in our bedroom, helping out with hubby's gallery exhibition (next week!), etc. He's promised to do them all. Yay (clap!).

In the meantime, I'm wondering how on earth my colleague's wife managed with twins in her belly. I'm now way too big to fit properly behind a desk or the sink, requiring me to bend over in odd ways. My weight is so heavy that the blood supply to my legs is cut off as soon as I sit down to do some work, necessitating frequent breaks. Not all that bad given my need for bathroom stops and that it's better for your eyes and back, but it's annoying when you want to get stuff done.

Even so, I managed to get stuff done. Today, I finally completed a full draft of my paper revision for a journal, including the response letter to the editor and reviewers (a mammoth task, ask any academic). I bounced it to my co-author and it's now up to him to work on it, hopefully before I give birth.

Still. I struggled to wake up. Two hours in, I felt nauseous. At lunch time, I didn't want to eat and felt unwell. By 2pm I thought I really could go no further. Managed to push it till about 3.30 or so to get it done. It leaves me with some feeling of accomplishment amidst all this heavy lifting.

The best parts of the day: receiving the new crib mattress, ironing the baby bed sheets and making up the bedroom for my brother.

Perhaps academia is the wrong job for me? I do so love to move around. 


  1. ironing the crib sheets? really?

  2. Sleep while you can; you won't have much of a chance afterward.

    I love your blog, and I think it's going to be a great gift to your son (once he gets over the embarrassment years).

    I remember the kicking by my two long ago (of course, I was on the outside, being the father) and shaking my head in shock and awe (the good kind). Now I look at them at 26 and 23, but I still feel shock and awe: that I survived them (and that they survived me).

    It won't be long now before the miracle happens.

  3. Organic cotton ... i.e. read "wrinkles like the plague". I normally don't iron anything at all. Seems like a waste of time, esp for sheets etc if you're just going to lay down on them. But I also tend to have stuff that doesn't wrinkle as much and if you fold it straight out of the dryer (the joys and guilt of living in North America), most things don't need ironing. These sheets appear to be some kind of exception. I reckon the ironing will quickly stop once the little one arrives!