As you may know from my last post, I spent 29 hours in labour with my son…and let me tell you it was worse than they said it would be!
The night before I went into labour I nested. I really don’t know why they call it that, because for me I just became a crazy mad woman who needed to scrub the entire world clean. Nesting is so deceptive of a word for what actually happens, which I found is the case with almost everything pertaining to pregnancy and parenting. I mean when I think of nesting, I think of folding cute little onesies, unpacking the mountain of diapers you bought, and placing all the lotions and potions you will soon figure out you don’t need in their rightful place. It sounds like you would be arranging the stuffed animals and toys they will just spit up on and checking and re-checking the baby monitor to make sure it works.
It is NOTHING like that (at least it wasn’t for me).