On Asking for Help

My last review at work was stellar and I got a raise and it made me feel good. The only thing that I didn't score off the charts on was delegation. I do everything that is assigned to me -- I hoard tasks. At work, I can handle this by just always getting my shit done even when said shit is making labels or putting together a folder. Other assistants delegate these things to our office services department, but I'd just rather do it myself. I actually care about what font is used on the labels, you know?

This week I found myself 34 weeks pregnant, with viral bronchitis and a subsequent cracked rib and the fleeting ability to sleep. I can't stand up to do the dishes without needing to sit down again after a couple minutes. I put together our crib unassisted the day before I noticed the rib crack/sprain, so I'm sure that idiotic decision contributed to the injury. I just wanted the crib put together! I couldn't just let the pieces sit there until Lane had time to get to it. The apartment is now filthy because I've been holing myself up in the bedroom after work every night, forcing myself to rest, which worked okay until I woke up this morning barely able to move. I suppose it's a combination of being exceptionally chilly in the Bay Area and carrying the baby lower as I get closer to the due date, but this rib thing is excruciating. It hurts to sit, lie down, sneeze, cough, walk, breathe deeply, etc.

So I texted my younger sister with a legitimate cry for help. She's been great about reminding me that she's here and able-bodied, but I've been really attached to doing it all myself and enjoying my quiet time before things get crazy. But there are no clean spoons left in the drawer and I have ice cream in the freezer. I have two giant bags of clothes for Goodwill and a bookshelf of books to box up for donation.  People are coming to my house on Tuesday for book club and the litter box stinks. Lane does what tidying he can and I can rely on him to take out the trash, but he just doesn't have the time to do the work I usually do.

This is a lot harder than I expected. I thought I'd be uncomfortable for the final few weeks, but not COMPLETELY MISERABLE. According to my assumed expectations, I set my maternity leave to start a week before my due date and counted on only me to get a lot of baby prep done. This just isn't realistic anymore. So I'm delegating and bumping up my maternity leave start date. I feel pretty good about asking for help this time. I don't feel guilty or uncomfortable about letting people in my space because I'm pretty fucking desperate for a hand. And it will make things that much smoother when we bring our new little one home. I'm incredibly grateful to be able to call my sister and ask her to clean my apartment and maybe run to the grocery store.

We got a 3D sneak peek at baby yesterday during our fourth (!) ultrasound and it looks like a baby! It looks like a baby that looks exactly like Lane! My OB thought I was measuring a little too big for 33 weeks, so they wanted a peek to make sure everything was hunky-dory. Turns out I've got some extra amniotic fluid, so I'll go in for weekly antenatal monitoring until the baby comes. Baby is weighing in at around six pounds now and has a head measurement in the 88th percentile. I'm so proud. The consensus among our co-workers and friends is now solidly boy. I stared at the creepy 3D picture for hours yesterday and I still can't tell. I can't wait for this bun to get out of the oven!