At the risk of sounding ungrateful, I'm trying to separate the feeling of being pregnant for the 4th time and having a 4th baby, because I know in my head they are totally different things.
But in my heart, the pain and tiredness and raging hormones and discomfort (already, good God) of pregnancy is becoming intermixed with the actual baby part and I don't want to send those kind of messages to my unborn fetus.
When I joked about having another kid way back when I could just joke about it because "ha ha! a 4th kid!," I said I'd happily accept one if he or she (as it stands) was dropped off at my doorstep.
Don't get me wrong. I have easy pregnancies compared to many.
But I'm hardly basking in the glory my gihugo-ness, which lately has been slowing me down and rendering me almost catatonic on the couch by 3pm every day and in bed by 10pm.
This does not bode well when you have three other children and that you use naptimes and evenings to work and that things in the marriage department, particularly when you're pregnant, are challenging.
This also does not bode well when you realize that you will soon have four children, and then if you're me, the self-loathing, self-doubting, all other negative "self" type things start flowing through your mind until you realize that you're an ungrateful bitch, which, surprise!, is not the most productive thing.
So I'm doing my best to myself that it's not the baby part that I dread. For once, anyway.
Scared out of my mind? Yes.
But imagining that the baby will be coming out fully potty trained, equipped with a personal chef, and practically perfect in every way helps.
I'm pregnant with Mary Poppins!
But I admit that it's the next 16 weeks, or at least being upright for most of the next 16 weeks, that I dread.
Well, that and actually having to get this baby out of me. But I'll wait a few more weeks to start dreading that part.