Hello, gigantic mix of emotions! It's no lie that I'm quickly growing impatient with this final leg of pregnancy. It's so easy to find yourself frustrated and uncomfortable and completely unaware of your ever-growing circumference. No matter how blessed, lucky and overwhelmed with happiness and anticipation as you might be, it's especially easy to find yourself wishing away the last several weeks of pregnancy. Of course, this is all my own opinion. (Disclaimer: Baby Boy, I would appreciate you staying in there to bake for at LEAST five or six more weeks. Then you can come out and play!)
Let's take a brief look at the less.. glamorous side of pregnancy, shall we?
Just yesterday, I swear I fit through the clothing racks at Target without
having to turn sideways, frontways, backways, etc.
It's too hot. All the time. Everywhere I go.
My wedding bands no longer fit and therefore, to many, I appear an unwed mother.
The looks and stares are not always pretty. Idiots.
My back hurts. All the time. Everywhere I go.
If one more person tells me, "My, you are NOT going to make it until the end of July," or "Are you sure it's not twins?" I'm going to smack them.
My husband is a saint for all of the back-rubbing, head-rubbing, foot-rubbing, insert-pretty-much-any-body-part-rubbing, he's been offering to do.
I now drive with one of those "old person" back supports in the car.
I can't stand the feeling of anything elastic or remotely constricting near my waist.
This goes for pants, shorts, underwear, seatbelts, etc.
(That doesn't mean I don't wear them! Goodness!)
I live in my husband's drawstring Under Armour athletic shorts and his over-sized T-shirts.
If only this was acceptable attire for graduations, weddings and showers,
I'd be happy as a clam!
I've opened countless car doors right into belly
and have quickly been struck by motherly guilt
for bumping Baby Boy right in the backside.
I've spit toothpaste right down onto belly, completely missing the sink bowl,
as I'm brushing my teeth (too many times to count!)
I curse and whine. A lot.
I've perfected the waddle.
I miss zippers. Zippers! I long for the day when I can pull up a pair of pants
and zip them closed. Don't get me wrong, elastic belly bands are glorious-
but zippers? Oh, zippers.
Whew. Enough of that rant. Moving on to much cuter, much better things.
3D/4D ultrasound. God's gift to impatient pregnant women.
Genius. Genius. Genius. How amazing. Let's just say this boy loves chocolate almost as much as his Momma does! Although a bit shy and uncooperative in the beginning, after several Hershey Kisses, Baby Boy was awake, alert and ready for his close-up!
I may be a bit biased, being how I'm his MOTHER and all,
but how can you not fall immediately in love
with those chubby cheeks and pouty lips?
What a smile! Throughout our 45 minute boutique ultrasound, Baby Boy was constantly drawing his feet and hands up to his face, opening his mouth, yawning and smiling. The ultrasound tech confirmed my suspicions- that Baby Boy is laying head down, oblique in position, with his head laying over either my right or left hip, depending on the day. No concerns, as he has more than enough time to scoot into a more vertical, head-in-the-pelvis position during the next few weeks. The guess is that he'll be an average-sized baby, measuring between 7 and 8 and a half pounds.
Although, if you ask me, 8 and a half pounds is awful close to NINE pounds and that's just ginormous in my book.
He kicks, he punches, he rolls, he hiccups. He stretches until he runs out of room and elbows and knees poke out of my belly. He tucks his feet up under my ribs and tickles me with his toes. It's cute for about thirty-seven seconds before I want to shove him so far down into my pelvis, he couldn't possibly wiggle his way up that high again.
His nursery is about a quarter of the way complete (hello, slackers!) and the furniture arrives later this week. I've already started a small library for him chock full of some of my absolute MOST favorite childhood books.
The Giving Tree.
Where The Wild Things Are.
If You Give A Mouse A Cookie.
Scuffy the Tugboat.
Alexander and The Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day.
We've already started reading together, although I can't say he loves it nearly much as he does rocking out to our iPod.
Wish me luck this weekend as I stand beside one of my dearest college friends as she says ,"I do!" to her college sweetheart. Note to self: Being a bridesmaid at thirty-two weeks pregnant is NOT the wisest decision you'll ever make! But it'll certainly be worth it!