Improved
6112 HealthChanged
3785 LivesSaved
3568 Lives0 lives impacted in the last 24 hrs Learn More
There came a point in my pregnancy when I became focused on a certain activity. It obsessed my thoughts all day long. It was constant. And the more I did it, the better I felt. Prior to my pregnancy, it was something I liked to do and tried to make time for. But as my pregnancy progressed, it became something that I could not go one day without doing.
It was The Big O....Organization. All the pregnancy books call it “nesting.” For me, as the baby’s arrival grew closer, I had to have everything in my house in just the right place. It started with the baby’s room . . . painting the walls, displaying the perfectly matched bedding and accessories, washing and putting away his clothes, all the clothes. Each little outfit was carefully hung in his closet. His tiny socks, sleepers, and hats, folded and placed in their own basket on the shelves of the changing table. The toys, toiletries, blankets, diapers, wipes……everything. I was so organized. I was crazy.
Once I was finished with every other room in the house, I started tackling projects that I hadn’t looked at since moving in. My husband awoke early one morning to find the spot next to him cold and empty. He rubbed his eyes as he walked and followed a light shining in from another room. “What are you doing?” he asked me. “It’s 4:00am.” “Oh, I couldn’t sleep and decided to alphabetize our CD collection,” I responded. “Would you put The Steve Miller Band under S for Steve or T for The?” He just shook his head and went back to bed. He was used to it by now.
All our clothes were arranged by color in both our closet and dresser drawers. I bought baskets and bins and every little thing had its own place in each closet. All the cans and food packages were carefully stacked (and organized by food type and meal that it was used for) and turned so all labels were visible upon opening the cabinet doors. I don’t know what I was thinking. This thing had taken me over.
The night my water broke and I went into labor, my husband carried our bags out to the car and returned inside only to find me hanging pictures up on the walls. “We have to go to the hospital! What are you doing?” he asked in a panic. “I have been meaning to hang these pictures.” I answered calmly, not taking my eyes off the wall. “Since when? We have lived here for almost 3 years!” I now know what he was thinking. CUCOO! CUCOO! She is INSANE! No, not insane, just pregnant.
This, of course was my first child. I had time to obsess. I had time to organize. It was a good thing I took all that time to get my house in order. I would not have time to do it again for years and certainly not be able to keep it that way.
My two pregnancies that followed never went to that extreme. With my second son, I hoped only to have my first son’s baby scrapbook finished before he was born. With my third, I was challenged just to get weekly housework like laundry and vacuuming done. Basic cleaning was a gratifying accomplishment. Every time I was able to wash a load of clothes, fold it and put it away in the SAME day, I wanted to celebrate.
As I look back, it was good to have something to keep me busy. As crazy as it seemed, it was productive. I have fond memories of the order and neatness my house displayed during that time. My question for my husband, “Was it just as good for you?”
Add a Comment4 Comments
Great story! It brought back all kinds of memories from my one and only pregnancy! It is so true how we become obsessed with something that we will never, ever have total control over again - NON CLUTTER!!! :)
Thanks for making me laugh!
Tracy
March 20, 2009 - 1:25pmThis Comment
When pregnant with my first son, my doctor told my husband that one of the first "warning" signs of oncoming labor was that I'd suddenly start cleaning house, that nesting instinct. My husband quipped back that I'm constantly cleaning (I have OCD), so he was not sure he'd be able to tell the difference.
The morning that labor did start, I was busily padding about the house, at around 5:30 a.m. - which is not that unusual for me - but complaining that I didn't feel very well. My husband kept calling the doctor every half hour or so, but I refused to go to hospital until I felt like someone hit me with a baseball bat. Yep, it was labor alright; and, 20 hours later, we had a son.
As far as pairing with a clutterbug, I am married to one. It has taken nearly 30 years for him to win his battle against my OCD; frankly, I've given up and am too tired to keep up with my own compulsions. Another pregnancy, though, is out of the question, LOL!
March 18, 2009 - 8:12pmThis Comment
Susan,
I am so laughing out loud at your adventures in pregnancy, and this one especially. I have never had a child -- perhaps that's why my home never got organized the way I'd hoped?
I'm seeing a new business opportunity here, pairing pregnant women with perennial clutterbugs....
March 17, 2009 - 8:36amThis Comment
Thank you. It was nice to read your comments and I am glad that you enjoyed it.
March 18, 2009 - 4:51pmThis Comment