8. Impatience, courage and madness

Entering the ninth month of pregnancy brought something out of me that had never surfaced before. Impatience. Oh, the impatience that flows through my veins, it lifts me from my chair, it doesn't allow me to think about anything but the moment when I will finally hold my child in my arms. I am afraid even of myself, of the thoughts that my head is ready for. Well, just today I thought "Come on, I can give birth, I'm in the ninth month... Why do we have to wait until the due date?". You have to Nina, you need to! Because that's the best, if it's possible, right? Be patient a little bit more, so much time has passed, so many different stages and emotions, you will last another week. But a desolate desire to hold in my hands what has been playing in my stomach for months, which "caresses" my ribs even when I sleep, which "dictates" to me what I can and cannot eat. These days are as long as years.

I don't go to work anymore. Now I am at home, preoccupied with arranging everything down to the smallest detail, so that we are completely ready for the new life in our lives. The crib is already set up close to my side of the bed, so every morning I wake up staring into the void through the wooden bars, imagining the two eyes that will soon be peering curiously from that same spot. And, after that rather idyllic awakening, the moment of getting out of bed arrives – a project in itself that can really last. Ivan always gives me a hand to make it easier for me to stand up, but I resolutely get up on my own, even if it takes ten minutes. All the clothes, all the blankets, sheets, towels and accessories down to the smallest detail have already been washed, ironed, folded and moved several times, because I can't decide what should be where. A handful of people have offered to help me with the process, but I want to do it all by myself. At home I try not to clean more than once every two or three days, even though I have been made clear that our home is okay as it is and that if I need help, I will get it at any time, but it is stronger than me. What if I have to go to the hospital, and at home everything is not arranged exactly the way I want?

Okay, okay... I know I'm exaggerating, I'm trying to correct myself. But I have some urge to prove myself, to confirm some things to myself and to the world. Why? I have absolutely no idea. What I mean... It's probably normal for a nine-month pregnant woman to not be able to do everything from tying her shoelaces to changing a light bulb in the kitchen. But I am another story. I want to prove to myself and everyone else that despite everything, I don't need help. I am strong, I can do by myself. I don't want anyone to get up from the chair to make room for me to sit down, I don't want to be let through the line at the counter, I don't want Ivan to take my grocery bag from the store so that I don't have to carry it, and I don't want anyone to help me in household duties. I want and I can do it myself.

Why am I doing this? Who will give me applause for all this? Why am I not making my life easier, but even in the ninth month of pregnancy I am constantly proving something to someone? Is it courage or madness? Does anyone else feel this way or am I the only one who refuses to accept the hand extended?

Your ever stubborn, impatient and immensely excited,

Nina