Full Term.

I never thought this week would come! No, it is not my due date; that is still a few weeks away. This is the 37th week marking the official Full Term Status. No matter what day I go into labor from here on out, the chances are good that Miss Isabella is ready for the air breathing world. Whoohoo!

As my pregnancy comes to a close, I have noticed a multitude of changes in myself. The obvious is my weight, which is officially 40+ pounds (crap). That continues to be of great concern and I still wholeheartedly believe I am FAT. However once you exceed the recommended 25-35 pounds, you hardly see the motivation to watch your weight. While I still plan to eat well for the little lady, I also plan to enjoy myself. For example, I have discovered McDonald's caramel ice cream sundaes for a dollar. They might be my new best friend. Luckily, I do not live within walking distance to a McD's or I would really be in trouble. McD's, on the other hand, would have the best quarter ever.

Some not so obvious changes include the crazy fluctuation of hormones. I can seriously wake up in great mood then suddenly feel like crying my eyes out. It just happened Wednesday as I drove to work. I drove by the Sonic on 156 & Q and suddenly wanted a milkshake, quickly realized that was disgusting at 8 in the morning and even more quickly realized that I am FAT. This led to a flood of other concerns, including being a FAT mom in horrid mom jeans (classic fit from the GAP). Luckily, I kept the tears at bay until I got home. Not so lucky was Ryan, who got to hear about my irrational fears of being a horrible fat mother with postpartum depression. After a 4 hour "nesting session," I felt much better. The days since have been wonderful!

"Nesting session," you ask? Yes, that is another change as well. I am a nesting machine. Granted, I have never been a fan of scrips and scraps or messes, my distaste has reached a whole new level. This has included bleaching floors, washing windows, dusting WITH polish, cleaning air vents and disinfecting bathrooms with old toothbrushes. Even Maisie cannot avoid my obsession: I have been brushing her teeth (not with the bathroom toothbrush) and brushing her fur daily. I am pretty sure she is plaque and mat free! This is not really an accomplishment she cares about. She is even less amused with my reasoning: "Maisie, you don't want Isabella to think your a street dog." I think she rolled her eyes at me...

On that note, I feel the urge to organize. I plan to update the blog as much as possible in these last few weeks...the countdown has begun.

35 weeks: An Anniversary and A Race.

One Year!

A Husband.

A Wife.

Wife & Champion.

At 35 weeks.

Our 35th week of pregnancy marked our First Wedding Anniversary (July 19th). How did we celebrate? With a triathlon, of course! Ryan competed in a local triathlon. Hoping to impress me, he won overall male. When he accepted his award, he dedicated it to me. It was as romantic as triathlons come. We also enjoyed our cake top with some sparkling grape juice. I can't say this is how I pictured my first wedding anniversary (ie: pregnant), but this year did bring remarkable blessings of which we are very grateful. If the first year was this amazing, the next 60 will blow my mind. Cheers my love!

Nursery: A Work In Progress.

Some art from the Aunt Annie Studio.

Mommy and Maisie "observing" the project.

Yes, I am really that HUGE.

A view from the door.

The bedding.

The crib.

The changing table.

The crib.

After ordering Isabella's crib on July 1st, it finally arrived! Well, actually, Babies R Us claims it arrived on July 11th and they called to let us know. LIES! As I explained to the associate, I would not have willing put myself through weeks of anxiety over this crib if I knew it was hanging out in the backroom. Rather than ensue a hormonal range, I found the silver lining: we have a crib.

Like most fathers, Ryan completed the "build the crib" right of passage ceremony today. I, unlike most mothers, stayed completely out of his way. I was a helpful, quiet observant of the project. After only 2 hours (most reviews stated it took 4 hours to build), Ryan put together the crib and changing table. It looks great! Now, it is time to decorate....please submit any ideas, as I am at a loss.

The Cascade of Chub.

Today, I am 34 weeks and 5 days pregnant. Which means in about 6 weeks or less (God let it be less!), I will no longer be pregnant! What I mean, is our sweet daughter will arrive. Ryan and I can't wait to meet her. Maisie (the dog) is  a bit apprehensive about all this.  This weekend, she realized something was officially up. I spent Saturday working on the nursery, marking a great first. We still do not have a crib, but I unpacked several baby tools: jumperoos, pack-n-plays and a car seat. I also washed a ton of bedding, clothes, burp rags and tiny socks. Maisie thought I was upgrading her kennel to a bedroom at long last. She tried with all her might to climb into the baby gear or sleep on fresh blankets. She was so disappointed when I pulled out her dog bed and told her to sleep. August will be such a downer for our little dog...

In 34 weeks, I have gained about 38 pounds. That is about thirteen pounds above normal. I will be the first to admit that I pride myself on being above average, often hating mediocracy. This is not one of those occasions. So, I am officially declaring that I AM FAT! I weigh more now than I have ever weighed in my life (I was a chubber in my former, single life). My preggo pants are getting tight. My underwear is cutting off circulation to my legs. And to add insult to injury, I noticed a back roll last night. That is right, a solid roll-like a cascade of chub down back (note title). Doubting my bathroom mirror, I spent about five minutes checking different angles and postures. Unfortunately, the roll remained. I spent the next few minutes sulking and crying. The reminder from my loving spouse that "You are pregnant!" was not helpful. That "reason" no longer makes my size excusable. Of course, then I remember that I have about 6 weeks left, meaning I will gain more weight...seems impossible. 

Due to my massive weight gain, my formerly small frame is aching. My hips are splitting apart. My back may be developing a  permanent curve and/or permanent back pain. This is making most activities less than fun. Sleeping is a crap shoot: sometimes I can't find a comfortable position. In my sleepy daze, I find myself compelled to lay on my belly. Don't worry, it can't happen. But, oh how I long for that simple position! Sitting and walking are also quite difficult. Sometimes, I can't get up from a chair. Sometimes, I waddle like a duck. Sometimes, I roll my desk chair across my cube to save myself the effort of trying to stand up (a pathetic admission, I know). 

In better (less whiny) news, Miss Isabella is officially head down! My doctor was able to feel her head preparing for exit. Now, rather than feel kicks on my sides, I feel large mounds across the top of my belly. I can feel her turn from side to side. It is a new sensation, but equally as amazing. 

Ryan and I have been attending Childbirth Class at Methodist Hospital for the last three weeks. It has been pretty interesting. Two weeks ago, we were able to watch a birth. It was not as bad as I expected. The worse part was the lack of shaving on the part of the new mother (seriously!). The video also highlighted very interesting birthing techniques, such as squatting on the bed with your bum in the doctor's face (I audibly gasped mid-video) and using a monkey bar to support yourself while pushing. I can't wait! Last week was "medical intervention" night. It was far more scarring than the natural birth. The teacher passed around real forceps (they weigh like 10 pounds), the baby vacuum and an epidural tube. We also learn about episiotomies and tearing. I freaked! Somehow, I left thinking that these interventions are far, far worse than natural labor. Way to use scare tactics Methodist... Luckily, I had an appointment with my doctor, who quelled my fears. I am still planning a natural birth, but I am not going to go all "hippie" and avoid interventions should I need them.  

Lastly, here is are some current pictures of my belly and I (next to pack-n-play and carrying my stylish breast pump backpack). 

More Fourth of July Fun!

An adult beverage while pregnant? Don't worry; it is completely staged! 

I stuck to water, soda pop and monster cookies! 

The girls in attendance this year: 

Lindi, Amelis, Mary, Katie and Amber. 

Missing & missed: 

Leslie, Lindsay, Tracy, Anne, Breanne and Deanne. 

Maisie after her first swim. 

She is planning to participate in an Iron Dog event in 2010. 

Lindi and Paisley snuggle in a futile attempt to avoid fireworks. 

Ryan, Maisie and I (and Isabella) celebrated Independence Day at the annual Johannsen Fourth of July Extravaganza! It was a wonderful day full of boating, fireworks and hot dogs. Isabella was blown away with the event and has already started planning her outfit for next year. She is hoping for a ruffled one-piece with polka dots. I promise nothing; who knows what will be in style next summer. 

Here are some memorable pictures from the day. 

Rockin' a suit.

At 33 weeks. 

Submitting my swimsuit photo for the next season of America's Next Top Model. 

At 33 weeks. 

Celebrating the Fourth of July at the Johannsen Extravaganza. 

Things to Never Say to Pregnant People.

A note to you all you NPPs (non pregnant people), Pregnant People are crazy. And I should know:

a. I am a counselor; ergo, I work with crazy people everyday.

b. I am pregnant. 

c. I am crazy or getting crazy or so crazy I don't actually know how crazy I am. 

I am going to assume this craziness is due to the same suspect/scapegoat of all other pregnancy side effects: hormones. Course, it could just be that spending 10 months in sheer discomfort as your body reeks havoc on the slim physique you so masterfully and tediously created.....I digress. 

The point is, pregnant people are crazy, sensitive and skilled at turing every comment from a NPP into a insult. I know the NPP means well. In fact, I am sane enough to know that feeling insulted is illogical. But I just can't help it.  

So, in order to save you innocent NPPs from the wrath of a pregnant person, here are some things you should never say (just think):

1. "Wow! You're so BIG!" or  "Look how BIG you've gotten!"

--When is it ever O.K. to call someone big? When is that ever a compliment? Why not just say, "Hey, Fatty Boom Boom, you're the mama that got so big, your booty beeps when you back up." After all, to a crazy pregnant person, BIG equals FAT and FAT equals UGLY. 

2. "I don't know about you, but it has gone so fast for ME."

--Fast for you? Yeah, I just woke up and realized I was pregnant too. My waist line disappeared, that was fast for me. My boobs inflated two cup sizes, that was fast for me. 

3. "She'll be here before you know it." or "It won't be long."

--First of, trust me I know I have exactly 7 weeks until my due date. I also know that due is not a guarantee, meaning I could go into labor as early as 37 weeks (4 weeks away) or as late as 42 weeks (9 weeks away). Second, who is to say I am ready!? The nursery is far from started, let alone ready. I still have a "buy this list" the length of Santa's Naughty List from 2006. Lastly, I think I will "know it." I just learned all about the stages of labor in birthing class....yeah, I'll know when she's coming. 

So, NPP...what can you say to a pregnant person? Save it. Anything you say can be used against you in the mind of a crazy pregnant person. Just continue to be that supportive mother, father, spouse or friend you are. I hear that pregnant people do, at some point, return to sanity. So much so, they start using these forbidden statements with careless disregard. Cycle of life?

PS. I plead guilty to using these statements on a regular basis in my NPP life. Sorry...