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).
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