Let’s be honest, I can focus on nothing else besides my growing belly. I can’t even pretend to have something else to talk about. I’m sorry. Stop reading if you hate it.
I am 36 weeks today.
THIRTY SIX WEEKS.
Holy crap this kid is coming any day now (but maybe a few weeks would be better, baby… eh hem).
I am tired.
Walking has turned to waddling.
Breathing is a past time that I once enjoyed.
I should take out stock in Tums. Heartburn you evil creep.
I had a memory once. I think I left it in the refrigerator with my keys. (Just kidding, I haven’t done that. Yet.)
Even my maternity clothes feel snug.
T-shirts that were once baggy are too short and too snug.
J has taken to saying “Whoa, you’re huge!” (in his most loving tone of course) while girlfriends say, “OMG your belly is so cute!”. Guess which one I prefer? 🙂
I won’t miss the late night leg cramps.
I feel grateful every day for this growing baby.
I am scared out of my mind that he isn’t going to want to sleep, nurse or love his parents.
His room is almost ready. The baseboards are still not looking sparkly :).
His hospital bag is packed.
Mine needs to be.
Every time I do laundry I think, “don’t wear this, it needs to go in your hospital bag and J will never be able to find them if they’re not out….”. So I end up piling stuff around the bedroom instead of actually putting it away because I still need to actually wear the things that I’d like to pack.
There is a lot of weird stuff happening to my body. I am sorry for all of my girlfriends who ask about it. Actually, I’m not. They asked (even though maybe they didn’t understand what they were asking).
I don’t need to hear about anyone else’s scary birth story or their water breaking fiasco. Those stories, for future reference, are NOT helpful. If I didn’t specifically ask, I don’t want to know.
J’s latest response is “whatever you’d like dear”. I think that might mean that I am getting cranky(ier), bossy(ier) and perhaps more likely to explode with emotion.
The most comfortable place to sit is in the baby’s room. It’s quiet and dark and calming.
I have an irrational fear of my water breaking on the baby’s new chair.
I will only buy baby books if I think they’re funny or cute or I can imagine looking at them 65 times a day. This is my latest purchase. I love that baby is going to have a LOT of books.
Between 8 hours a day trying hard to focus on work and my swollen feet, I want nothing more than to lay on the couch at the end of the day. I haven’t gotten that “last burst of energy” that I may apparently get yet.
I’m not sure that I believe it’s coming.
I might be nesting-ish but I have no actual desire to do the nesting. I want to organize the baby’s room, but the dust bunnies on the hardwood floor? Someone else can manage those.
I have yogurt in my fridge that expires after my due date. THAT is crazy.
My trainer told me not to come to the gym anymore because he doesn’t want me to give birth in the gym. I don’t think he fully understands how this process works. 🙂
I am so thankful for these pants. I wear them every. single. day. I have several colors. They’re amazing. And you’re welcome because they are on sale in the “we made too much” section. Buy them. For real.
I have to get dressed up tonight for a work event. This is going to be SO interesting. I hope that shoes aren’t a requirement because, well… swollen.
Have I mentioned that I would do all of this, feel all of this and more over and over again for this baby to arrive healthy? I sort of wish that the stork would just deliver him, but since that doesn’t seem like a likely option at this point, I’ll just try to trust my instincts, lean on J (who needs to be a rock because I am SO NOT a rock) and my doctor….
I know one thing for sure… whoever this baby decides to become, he is SO incredibly loved.
4 more weeks baby.
Actually, your Dad would prefer if you would arrive a couple of days early so that he has an extra holiday day to spend with you.
I would like you to arrive at about 1:00AM so that we can maximize our hospital stay, which apparently counts by midnights.
No pressure. Come when you’re ready. But maybe a couple more weeks :).