Nesting Instinct in Overdrive

Hi Amalah,

36.5 weeks pregnant here, with baby number two (firstborn son just turned four). I am nesting like crazy and can’t do anything about it because my wait-til-the-last-minute husband STILL HASN’T FINISHED CLEARING OUT HIS OFFICE WHICH IS GOING TO BECOME THE NURSERY. I have all this energy that I am just dying to pour into getting that room ready: there is IKEA furniture to put together (no, I promise I won’t try to handle anything heavy on my own)! There are clothes to sort! There are books to arrange! There are room decorations to be purchased and hung! And I can’t do a thing about it because hubby’s sh*t is still all over the room. (The silver lining is that I’m plowing my energy into organizing the preschooler, but still.)

To be fair to him:
-He is scrambling to get ahead at work so that he can take a good four weeks off when baby girl arrives.
-I’ve had an extremely difficult third trimester so he has been handling the bulk of the parenting duties with the four-year-old, and I know that you know how much energy a stubborn preschooler will suck out of you.
-He is taking good care of me and is always game for a late-night ice cream run when I run out.
-He HAS begun to organize and move some of the stuff out, it’s just that it’s not done yet.
-He’s well and truly exhausted from all of the above.

It’s just that he doesn’t seem to realize just how much I am going bonkers feeling like he’s holding up my baby preparations. I am still working full time for a few more days, but this is my last week and I really, really want to spend my first week off going all-out to get ready, especially since firstborn arrived ten days early and I am not really expecting to go all the way to my due date. I recognize that practically speaking, we don’t need the nursery ready when baby arrives – we have a cosleeper already put together and waiting and she will live in our bedroom for the first few months at least – but for my mental health I need it ready because NESTING. I am driving my poor husband crazy by hovering over him when he’s trying to do his own thing and attempting to give helpful suggestions to help him manage his time and get this stuff done. I KNOW that I’m being irrational but I just. can’t. help it. How can I stop driving us both mad? I need a verbal smack upside the head. Please give it to me.

GAAAAAHHHHHHHH PREGNANCY FLASHBACKS OF THE NESTING. OF THE TERRIBLE HYSTERICAL NESTING.

My nesting instinct was so strong, so powerfully irrational, that my husband called it my nesting syndrome. He was…not wrong.

So while my no-longer-pregnant self can technically say all the stuff you admit you know already — seriously, you don’t need a perfect nursery set up for day one, your husband is excelling in the Good Supportive Husband in so many other areas, blah blah blah — my formerly-pregnant self is basically sitting here clawing at my face because I KNOW EXACTLY HOW YOU FEEL AND IT’S AWFUL.

First up, I want you to take some deep breaths. In through your nose, pushing your belly out, then exhale through your mouth until your lungs are empty. Do this 10 times. The next time* you find yourself standing at the office/nursery door while screaming internally, repeat this exercise. Somewhere else, somewhere quiet. Consider a full half hour of quiet meditation when your 4 year old is at school. I know this sounds corny and woo-hoo-y but trust me, as I speak from three-time experience. When the nesting instinct gets this strong and powerful, there is a tiny twinge of anxiety/OCD to it, so any sort of calming, anti-anxiety strategy can really help bring you back to center.

Next, look for any and all other projects you can throw your energy into. My nesting didn’t stop, by the way, once the nursery was done. Oh, noooooo. That restless, pent-up energy stuck around. I organized non-nursery closets. I washed the windows. The morning of my c-section I dragged all the trash and recycling cans off the curb because my husband said he’d bring them in “later” and I was afraid I wouldn’t be able to stop thinking about them. I’m not saying that ANY of that stuff was really that important, or was anything other than a sign that I was slowly going batshit, but…it did help. That energy has to go SOMEWHERE, so look around your house for any (safe) project you’ve been putting off and consider tackling it instead.

Finally, talk to your husband. Show him this email (says the advice columnist who always kinda judges advice columnists when that’s their advice). Explain how you’re feeling, how grateful you are for everything he’s done, how irrational you know you’re being, but that you just. Can’t. Help. It. Find out if there’s anyway to compromise on his sort-and-organize-and-THEN-move process. Can the bulk of things simply get packed up in some nice bankers boxes and labeled for a more detailed sorting later? Can he focus on just one area (closet, corner for crib, etc.) so you can at least get started on one space? Once you’re home could he leave you with some instructions on how to take over the organizing/moving process? Could you possibly bring in a professional organizer for a few hours of super-charged progress? (Yes, these people exist and appear to be made of magic, as once I am no longer pregnant I suddenly revert to having a high tolerance for clutter and a hatred of all things organizing.)

If none of those things are options, or just continue to NOT HAPPEN FAST ENOUGH, go back to the previous two paragraphs and rinse and repeat. Deep breaths, relaxation techniques. You can certainly remind yourself that your daughter will actually come home to your room, not the Room Of Which We Do Not Want To Think About Right Now OMG, but do it in a kind way — no berating yourself for feeling this way or ordering yourself to STOP IT. Acknowledge the feelings, then visualize them flowing through and out of you, just like they will on the day your baby arrives. (Because seriously: POOF.)

Then, I dunno, go clean out your car, or rearrange a closet for kicks.

*Full disclosure: When I went to proofread this column I realized I’d typed “next time” as “nest time.” That amused me and I wanted to share. Also I am clearly still holding on to a bit of the third trimester crazy.

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