Pregnancy rule # 611

The husband will change his mind about how he wants to pant the baby's room at the very last minute. The change will undoubtedly be more intricate and complicated than the original paint plan, meaning it will take longer to complete the nursery. The immensely pregnant woman will need to take a deep breath and let go of her frustration.

Note: it is essential to have mint chocolate chip ice cream on hand to soothe nerves.

Sundries

The belly continues to stretch tighter and tighter. Sometimes I wonder how this kid is fitting inside me, and with a little more than a month to go how is it going to continue to fit? Oh, by poking me in the ribs a thousand times a day, that's how. "Silly mommy, your body is my playground" this kid thinks as I wince in pain at the foot that is causing the left side of my stomach to go numb.

This morning I couldn't sleep at all and ending up getting up around 5:20. That is early, even for me. But, instead of being upset about the ungodly hour I tried to think about it differently. In a few weeks I will be getting up 5:20 or earlier because I have to, because there will be someone in the next room who needs me. Today I could get up and do whatever it was I wanted, I could go swim and not worry that I had to be back at the house by a certain time. While I am not complaining in the LEAST about the child that I will be taking of in a few weeks, I do realize that I will miss the 'me' time that I have had over the last 28 years of my life. It is hard to explain what this realization has done for me, but I hope that I can appreciate everything about my life during the next month, because it's all about to change. Ch-ch-ch-changes...

Last night husband and I went to see 'Into the Woods' at our local theater. I really enjoyed the play, though it was a bit long. I had never seen the full version of the story, and honestly, it's a little depressing. The first act is very bright, shiny, and happy, the second act brings you back to reality and makes feel a little depressed. Overall the show was wonderful, I loved it, and I am preeetty sure I understood the moral of the story (since the cast only sung about it the entire second half of the show), which was children grow-up, you cannot protect them forever. How apropos to this stage of my life, because all I can think about is protecting this child inside me.

We have a baby shower tomorrow that friends are throwing for us and I am really looking forward to it, though I have to remember to hold my head up in all the photos so my complimentary maternity double chin doesn't show up.

XY or XX?

Ho boy. This baby likes to streeeeeetch out all over the place. Often times I find myself pushing back on spot on my belly that hurts like a mofo, and I'll feel a little foot move out of the way, or a knee slide down lower in my belly. What is really freaky is to look at my stomach and actually see how lopsided it is at times. I wish I had a way to look inside and see what kinds of crazy positions this kid gets itself into, it is so intriguing.

I know as soon as I write this next sentence I will be jinxing myself, but I shall take the risk. As of right now I have no stretch marks, and this makes me oh.so.happy! Tomorrow I will be kicking myself for typing that, because I guarantee that my body will punish me for being so vain and produce one stretch mark for every letter in this entry. Honestly, I don't know why I haven't gotten any stretch marks; I suppose it comes from good genes. It certainly isn't because I am watching what I eat and taking care to rub lotion on my belly every day. In fact, I feel like I am eating pounds of food lately, and I am hungry at the worst times of day, like 9pm at night. Though I do enjoy being able to eat a meal and not having to suck my gut in after I am done, I will miss that once this baby pops out. Pregnancy weight: Both a blessing and a curse.

I have really tried to keep in shape during this pregnancy, and though I am gaining weight at what feels like an alarming rate, I am swimming almost every day, so that makes me feel somewhat better. Do you know what really annoys me though? The women in the locker room who insist on conversing with me while I am naked and showering. Who holds a conversation while naked?! It is all I can do to shower quickly and grab my towel because I certainly don't want anyone staring at my body, especially when I am sporting the "beached whale" look. I feel like I draw attention to myself anyway since I have no belly button to speak of, and my stomach is this giant bulbous ball, I don't need more attention when I HAVE NO CLOTHES ON. Please, do not talk about the weather or the temperature of the pool water until I am dressed, I beg you.

That paragraph above is giving me the heebies, so let me change the subject and talk about my sweet baby. Everyday I wonder: Boy or Girl? I came across some old wives tales online and I have had fun applying each to my pregnancy to see if I can figure out this kid's gender.

* If the baby's heart rate is under 140 it's a boy, over 140 it's a girl
This kid's heart rate has been between 140 and 150

* If you have heartburn you're having a girl
I had some heartburn during the 2nd trimester, but nothing since

* If the mother's age at conception and the year of conception both end in an even or odd number then it's a girl, if one is even and one is odd, it's a boy
I was 27 in 2006

* If you carry out front: girl, if you carry in the hips and butt: boy
I don't really know where I am carrying, I am guessing out front, my husband and mother both commented that I don't look pregnant from behind

* Boys give beauty, girls take it away
I haven't had any breakouts, but I did gain weight in my face, it's a toss up

* If you are moody it's a girl. If you are cheerful it's a boy
I would say overall I have been a pretty cheerful pregnant lady, give or take a few hormonal episodes

As my husband would say: They all have a 50% chance of being right. How accurate he is, because half of these indicate I am having a girl and half indicate I am having a boy. At least it doesn't look there are any puppies inside me.

Bump Baby Bump

The other day I was walking through Georgetown and a homeless man shouted to me: "Hey! Pregnant lady! Congratulations!" I had a non-maternity coat on, zipped up over my belly, but I forget how obvious my belly is. I guess I feel like since I am still wearing my regular coat I really can't be all that big, but when I am getting recognition from unexpected people on the street, that is a big ole wake up call as to how pregnant looking I really am. Part of my constant amazement at how big I am getting stems from the fact that I don't have a very good full length mirror in my house. The only full length mirror I have sits propped against a bedroom wall with a door in front of it. It is so covered up that I feel like I barely use it. When I am out and catch a glimpse of myself in a true full length mirror I always stop and look again, because it is amazing that another person is fitting inside my stomach (and pushing haaaaaard as I type this).

Lately it has been fun to play the game “guess that body part” when I feel a sharp push or a rock hard spot under my skin. Something I read says the baby may have turned head down by now and is getting ready to prepare for birth. Birth! It has occurred to me recently that some how or another this baby eventually has to exit my body, be it naturally or through surgery. This is starting to make me very jittery. We watched a birth video the other night in which a woman naturally gave birth to a 10 pound 1 ounce baby. I could feel my legs tightening closed as the video started and by the end I think I had cut off all blood flow in my lower extremities I was clenching so forcefully. Ow. I wish I could fast forward through the actual birth part and get to the part where I am holding my baby in my arms. The part that makes me forget about all the pain and stretching I had to endure, the part that makes me want to have another child right away. Holding this baby against me and seeing the tiny life we created is what I am looking forward to the most.

Year of the Baby

It is has been 2007 for approximately three days now and that means this is the year this kid will be born. Hold me, for I am but a wee bit scared. But, let's be honest, I am also thrilled beyond belief. This kid must be thrilled too, because it has decided to step it up a notch and has been rap tap tapping all over my insides for the last week or so. I admit that I love feeling this baby move around, but my insides kinda hurt. I had no idea how squished I would end up feeling. And bending over? Forget it. I end up knocking the wind out of my own self every time I lean over. Amazing how quickly I can forget that I have a large backpack permanently attached to the front of my body for awhile. I also forget that this backpack makes me tired, and does so very easily. I keep thinking that I have the same stamina, the same endurance as I did before I was pregnant. There are times I fool myself into believing this is true, and most of the time I just ignore the fact that I no longer can expend as much energy as before and push myself to finish a task. One of the hardest things about this pregnancy has been reminding myself to slow down and that it's okay if I don't accomplish my list of 100 things to do today.

The holidays made it hard for me to try and slow down, because everything about them screams "DO AS MUCH AS YOU CAN OR YOU ARE A FAILURE" (gee, do you think I put a bit too much pressure on myself?), but I really enjoyed Christmas this year. I also really enjoyed having all our guest leave and spending time with just my husband. Lately all I want to do is be around Jim, I miss him when I am at work, I wish he could drive everywhere with me, I really treasure being with him. Perhaps I am realizing that we won't have this kind of time alone together for a long time to come and I am making the most of these last two months. He has been working so hard for our family too, making sure that our house is ready for the baby. I wish so badly I could help out more, I hate that the pressure to complete projects is falling on his shoulders. However, he has done a wonderful job both remodeling the closets and calming my fears about completing the nursery, I cannot put into words how much I value Jim, he is one in a million, and I am glad he's all mine.

The one thing I would change that is all mine is my caboose. This thing is getting harder and harder to maneuver, and once I sit down I don't like to move again because it's pretty much downright impossible. But, I will say that I am nothing short of a genius since I started wearing soccer shorts to bed at night. They are so slick on the sheets that I can roll right over, where as before it used to take all the strength I had in me to reposition myself when I was sleeping. Sleeping still isn't great, but it comes and goes, and that is better than nothing. In 8 more weeks it may be but a fleeting memory, so what little bit I am getting I shall try and relish in, though I still reserve the right to complain about how crappy said sleep may be.

And, can we take a minute to focus on that little phrase '8 weeks'? The fact that this kid could be born in approximately 8 weeks means that I am 8 months pregnant. 8 MONTHS! Seriously. I questioned that number quite a bit this week and was sure at one point that I had miscalculated because, really, even though I feel about 13 months pregnant I really must only be 7 months pregnant, right? But...alas...I am not 7 months. I am 8 months pregnant and this kid is coming soon. I continuously wonder who this baby will resemble, what color hair (if any) it will have, what personality traits will it possess? I am fully prepared for this kid to look everything like Jim and nothing like me because it seems to always go that way. Mama carries the child for 10 long months and the kid pops out looking like the spitting image of dad. I keep telling myself it's fine if the kid looks like Jim, he's a handsome guy. But kid, just so you know: I would appreciate just a little recognition in the resemblance department. Thanks.