It really is starting to feel like this little thing is taking over! Sometimes I can't believe that something that is currently affecting nearly every aspect of my life will probably weigh less than 10 pounds. Little stink bug!
Well, I really am in the home stretch now, and I have to say that I'm really looking forward to being done with this whole pregnancy thing. I like the outcome (except when they don't sleep), but I am not very fond of the carrying for nine months part. Anyway, I'm trying very hard not to count down the days!
In the last week or so, I've gone from the sort of cute stage of pregnancy, to the stage where people start feeling sorry for me. It is darn near impossible to walk without a waddle or bend over without groaning. It's kind of pathetic. And even though Chris seems to like the fact that I have, for the first time in our marriage, surpassed him on the scale, I can't help but feel just a bit depressed about my round-everywhere body. Not that I'm stopping my current Oreo binge or anything. Men just don't get it-- I complained to my doctor, and he actually said that he is "pleased" with my weight gain. Pleased? Is that a compliment? I wanted to smack him.
Aside from becoming the personification of Chunky Monkey, I've been feeling a bit claustrophobic on the inside. Just today, however, the squishiness seems to have shifted from my ribs/lungs/heart area, down to my lower abdomen, which I think means that the baby has dropped. Today I'm having much less heartburn, but way more trips to the bathroom. I'm taking this as a good sign. I also have some weird spinal thing going-- maybe sciatica?-- where I get these very annoying numb limb episodes, particularly on my left side. Fortunately, I have a live-in man servant who is willing to pretend that my constant whining is justified and rub my ailing legs until I can feel my toes again. :)
As far as the little guy goes, I'm really anxious to see what kind of baby he is. Very different from my other two, this one does not move a lot, or with the same fervor. Gordon woke me up several times a night with his voracious internal boxing, but this one wakes me up because I try to remember if I've actually felt him move at all in the last few hours. His movements are very soft and rolling, rather than the hard kicks and punches I received from my other kids. His heartbeat is strong, so there aren't any real worries. It's mainly just a curiosity thing-- is he going to be one of those dream babies that just sits there and smiles? I'm praying for YES!
Finally, I'm at the point where I've been getting a lot of really funny comments from complete strangers everywhere I go. Yes, I know I'm looking "ready" and "ripe", thank you very much, and no, I can't believe I'm old enough to have three kids, either. Most of the time, I don't get too annoyed-- and thankfully no one has felt the need to touch my stomach-- but I'm still amazed at the complete lack of tact pregnancy brings out in people. Let me just go on the record with this: I can't stand that "I'm so sorry" look I've been getting when people find out that I'm expecting my third boy. I like girls and I would have been thrilled to have one, but I also like boys and I know what to do with them and I already love this one more than I can express. Why on earth would I feel sad about that?!? I know so many people who struggle with either conception or having healthy children, so I am grateful that this one is doing well so far, boy or girl. And why is it that when people learn that we're a little gender lopsided, they feel the need to ask what my future conception plans are? Am I going to "keep trying" for a girl? asks the lady at Sam's Club, then proceeds to tell me some story about her sister or aunt or whoever who had boy after boy after boy before finally getting a girl, blah, blah, blah. I don't answer the "trying" question, because for me, having kids isn't like gambling until you get the right roll of the dice. But I shouldn't have to explain that to anyone, especially someone who doesn't know anything about me. Asking an extremely pregnant woman about her future baby plans is like asking a dental patient who is still reeling from the novocaine when he's planning his next exciting root canal.
Okay, clearly I had to rant about that one! Whew, I feel better. How about another Oreo? :)