It has been a week of contrasts, seven days spent in an odd limbo. Tomorrow is our due date, so the week has been a bizarre blend of getting on with life as normal, whilst waiting (impatiently!) for something that has not yet happened.
The days have been restful, plenty of relaxing, yet with an underlying restlessness that finds me pacing the house in the early hours. Looking back, it has been a nicely busy week. I have done lots of cooking, had days out with my mum and Grandad, coffees, lunches, an art exhibition, shopping with a friend, walks with Millie. Yet there is that sense of not having achieved the biggest thing, of waking up each morning and wondering what the day might have in store.
I feel ready, each evening I say to The Husband that I feel we are as prepared as we can be, I just want to meet our baby. Yet we both know that we can never truly be ready for the change that is coming, that it is beyond what we can imagine, and when things eventually start happening I expect the calm confidence I have currently will quickly disappear!
The weekend has been gentle, but with an undercurrent, perhaps more for The Husband, who has not known whether he will be going back into work tomorrow or starting the week on paternity leave. For now, there is no suggestion that the baby is on the way imminently, the alarms are set, and Monday will bring the start of another normal week, much like the last. And yet, there is the promise of this being an extraordinary week indeed.