John is probably going to pass out when he sees that I actually posted on our family blog. I know he started it so I would write but that just hasn't seemed to happen. I haven't been that motivated since I broke our digital camera and felt it would be lame to post without pictures. But, I guess written documentation still has its merits so, I thought I would post a few random thoughts about the end stage of pregnancy. Due date is Saturday, 7/26, but what does that really mean? It means the end is near but near is such a relative term after being pregnant for 9 months. It could be tonight or next week or even (gasp!) August. For some reason, if this baby decides to come in August, that just seems like such a psychological blow for me even though it is less than a week after my due date. The changing of the month makes it seem very far away.
I have been feeling good the last few weeks and have not had the feeling that I am so big that I can't even get any bigger - a common feeling at the end of my last pregnancy. I love the comments people make to me and have people telling me (on the same day): "wow, were you this big on the last one? I don't remember you being this big" or "you look ready to pop" as well as others saying "you look great" and "I can't believe you are almost due". I have decide the second group of people are liars but I do appreciate them.
I have been trying to go the gym twice a week to walk on the treadmill and while no one makes comments to me, the lady at the front desk tells John "I feel so sorry for your wife". So, I guess I do look like a big cow on the treadmill. Going to the gym has been difficult since the heat wave we had here a week or so ago which made my feet swell up like sausages. Seriously. I had never had pregnancy swelling before and it was fairly disgusting. I still could manage to get my running shoes on but barely had enough lace left to tie a knot.
This weekend we (read "I") spent a lot of time nesting. I cleaned, did laundry, put away baby clothes, thought about writing thank you cards from my baby shower, and put up the fancy pack-n-play with bassinet addition in our room. John actually did that and moved the bed over a few inches so I can squeeze between the bed and the pack-n-play. I think I would be ok now if the baby did come. For me it is always "don't come, don't come, don't come. Ok, you can come. Anytime. Ready. Please come soon. Are you listening to me?" Last week I finished a few other remaining items on my list: pedicure and eyebrows. I mean, you never look good in the delivery room but at least I will know that my toenails are painted and my eyebrows are well maintained. It will help.
I have a secret wish that the next time I go to the MD she will say "Oh my, you are a dilated to a X (number greater than 3) and need to go to the hospital now". It happened to my sisters but has yet to happen to me. I just get "Oh, you are still at a 3 like you were the last 3 weeks" and "I can't believe you are still around" and the "do you want to be induced?" Luckily, my doctor does not seem to think that you need to wait until 41 or even 40 weeks to be induced. She offered to do it last week but I told her I wasn't ready. Unfortunately, I see the nurse practioner this week and I think she is a little less carefree in the induction offers.
We will keep you posted with any news over the next few weeks (I will try to not be too graphic in the descriptions - maybe this post was already too graphic. John hates most words associated with delivery and I think even "dilate" may be too much for him).