Confessions of a full-term mama

I.am.tired.  Not the "take a nap" or "go to bed early" kind of tired.  The "once I sit down I don't want to stand back up" kind of tired.  The "I just want to lay on the couch, prop my feet up on a stack of pillows, and watch Jane Austen movies" kind of tired.  And since this is a no-holds-barred confessional post, I might as well add that while lying at that comfy couch I would also be sipping a Coke.  An icy cold, extra-fizzy, fountain Coke.  But hey, let's not stop there.  Let's throw in a big bowl of some unhealthy, super salty, flourescently orange Cheez-Its perched perfectly atop my belly.  And then we'll top it all off with a pack (an entire pack) of Twizzlers, brought to you by Red 40.  And now you know.  THAT is how I feel this week.


This is officially my favorite outfit of this pregnancy.  I would say I'll be sorry to see the Heidi Klum skinny leg jeans go in a few weeks, but I have a feeling we'll be spending a long winter together ...

Perhaps in an effort to offset these terrible, unhealthy thoughts, I took the boys on a walk.  Or I attempted to take the boys on a walk.  They were both excellent companions for once.  Start 'em off with a little treat, bottle of water and super-cool hat on their heads, and they were more than willing to comply. 


Do you have any idea how much this thing + my two boys weighs?  Me neither, but I'd sure like to find out.

About halfway through our walk we came across a stray golf ball off the back 9, and that thoroughly made Jack's day.  You never saw such a proud owner of a random golf ball.  But fate was not on my side that morning.  I'm still trying to learn the ins and outs of our neighborhood.  I've found one or two good, flat routes, with sidewalks and in the opposite direction of the old men speeding in their Sebrings to the Country Club.  But I'm bored of them already.  So on this day we tried a different turn, a new street ... and promptly ran into three different hills.  Three different occasions to put myself into labor.  And three different times where I had to stop, pull out my phone so it appeared to anyone watching that I had a reason to pause, and just catch my breath for a little while.  New confession:  I'm terribly out of shape.


Putting up my feet, but certainly not relaxing.

The good news is: I'm in the clear.  I hit the 37 week mark tomorrow (a week later than I had been planning for a while now) and baby is in the clear for a birthing center arrival, as long as we don't go past 42 weeks.  But I don't think that will happen.  Baby's also in a great position - head down, back slightly on my left ... and her feet are completely jutting off to my right.  Even the midwife was getting a kick out of her situation.  Really sweetie, just make yourself right at home, you can just push that kidney out of the way and stretch yourself out ...


I put these on before leaving for Jack's physical appointment and he got all upset and said, "No Mom, those aren't doctor shoes!"

The Little Miss kept kicking and rolling around for the midwife, who happily responded with "Oh hey honey, hi there!" ... "Oh hello honey!"  The two of them were just off in their own little world for a few minutes while she did a "round ligament release".  Don't ask me exactly what that means, all I know is that I feel much, much better after that appointment!  The other cool thing at that visit was hearing Baby's heart accelerate in the doppler whenever she started moving a lot, and then it would slow down a bit when she was resting.  She's healthy, active and, according to the midwife, will likely take after our middle child and be in the 7 pound range.


No, they're not doctor shoes.  They are pregnancy-calf slimming, kankle defying, most comfortable heels in the world shoes.  I may just wear these to the birthing center... and then change into slippers when I get there.

The midwife also said my belly looks perfect.  Can you tell I was totally loving this lady by the end of our 30 minutes together?  I just kept replaying her comments in my head this weekend after a half of a dozen people told me, yet again, how small I'm carrying.  I think I'm going to start eating a candy bar for every "small" comment I get, that should help offset things.


This might be my other favortie pregnancy outfit.  Nothing like being able to fit into your hubby's old football t-shirts.

And I have a new theory about those of us who "carry small."  Since Baby is on track to be a healthy, average size.  And my weight gain is also healthy and average.  One can only assume that I'm just carrying more on the inside than on the outside.  For every woman whose belly is sticking way, way out.  There's one of us whose womb reaches our spine.  Makes sense right?  It also explains why I feel so compacted in there right now.  I'm able to bend over approximately two inches at this point, if I'm lucky.  I would be so curious to see what things look like under my ribcage, it feels like a Tetris game for sure.  But hey, as long as Baby is able to bounce about and stretch her legs - I'm happy.  My organs can handle the temporary living situation for a few weeks longer.
And that's where we're at now - a few weeks longer.  Give or take a few weeks.  It feels like only yesterday I was crying at the dining room table trying to figure out how to break the news to Jon.  But no matter how much you want to slow it down, those 9 months always go fast!