One More Week...

And I plan to savor every minute of unscheduled time until he arrives.
For the first week of my generous maternity leave, I was so nervous that our son would arrive early (a common occurrence among my colleagues, many of whom delivered 2-3 weeks before their due date) that I spent my days, and my paycheck, stocking up on dozens of essentials I was sure we needed before he was born. I picked up more than three-dozen items at Babies R Us, I scheduled a long overdue teeth cleaning, I signed up for another package of prenatal yoga classes. I took a 2-hour CPR and child safety class with my husband. We completed the last of five 3-hour classes on childbirth. I bought nursing bras, shirts and assorted paraphernalia. I bought extra bottles of shampoo, lotion, body gel, and 3 tubes of my favorite lipstick. I picked up a new robe and pajama set for the hospital stay. I scheduled one last hair appointment.
You'd think I had just been sentenced to house arrest, or was preparing to embark on a six-month sojourn to Siberia.
But as the days passed, and our son gave no indication that he planned to make an early appearance, I finally started to relax and to relish this time. It has been years since I had more than 2 weeks off from work. And this time seems even more precious because I know how limited it is--and how quickly the concept of free time or "me time" will disappear after our son is born.
Still, once I'd checked off all the items on my to-do lists, I didn't know what to do with all that time. I struggled with sudden feelings or irrelevancy. I checked my work emails and realized that they were doing just fine without me. I stopped by the office one afternoon, ostensibly to take a friend to lunch at the upscale cafe at my husband's office. But he was too busy to take a lunch break. And my friend was obviously busy too. The first time the phone rang, she brushed it off with a flick of her wrist. But by the third or fourth interruption, I saw her eying the phone worriedly and I urged her to pick it up. I left a few minutes later, vowing not to visit the office again until I was ready to come back. I didn't belong there now.
Still, I felt such pressure not to "waste" this time off that I spent several hours brainstorming about freelance projects I could take on while I was out on maternity leave. I sent emails to my agent, pitching book projects I couldn't take on for several weeks (or months) if ever. I sent emails to my colleagues at work about stories I knew I may not ever write. They humored me, but they were noncommital. Who could blame them? I' not supposed to be working now. And they were parents themselves. They knew better than I did how little time I would have to think about work, much less do it, once our baby was born.
I have one more week before our son is due. Maybe I'll read a book or 2. Maybe I'll write. Maybe I'll sit at home on the couch and eat bowls of popcorn and watch silly movies. Maybe I'll meet friends for dinner. Maybe I'll sleep in. Maybe I'll just do nothing at all.
The one thing I vow not to do is feel guilty about how I spend this last week.