It’s the final countdown! I’m officially 9 weeks away from my “expected due date” and I went in to the doctor this morning for the first of my “every other week” visits. I always feel so great after talking to my doctor because he makes me feel like such an ideal, textbook, pregnancy case that he can do with his eyes closed. And you know what? That’s awesomely comforting to me that he seems so blase about my whole pregnancy. He doesn’t say much, but if I ask a question he’ll talk my ear off in response. At one point a few months ago I said “I assume that no news is good news?” and he laughed and said “yeah, I’ll let you know if there’s something to be concerned about, but it all looks great!” Music to me and my little kick-boxer’s ears. We’re doing it, Mini Me!
While I was walking into his office today, two old women walking in the office complex smiled at me and said “you look so cute!” which made me smile and feel awesome because “ugly days” seem to be so much more frequent when you’re pregnant and I’m glad that I don’t look like I’ve just given up. So you rock, sweet old ladies!!
Talking to the doctor today, he started discussing delivery and post delivery. I told him that I would like to do everything I can to avoid a c section, but at the same time I trust him and if he says that I need one I’m not going to argue or be disappointed. He talked to me about the pros and cons of each and told me to think about it and he’ll plan on whatever I want. He has very compelling arguments for each and now I don’t know what I want except for this kiddo to be out! Which he said to plan to deliver between 39 and 40 weeks and he’s not really going to let me go longer (one) because of my small size and (two) because complications arise and it gets much riskier after that. So apparently November 25th is really like the speed limit when a cop is present. After about 30 minutes of chatting about delivery and post delivery plans, he smiled and told me that I “certainly have the right attitude” because I just seem genuinely excited, able to laugh, and approaching decisions with the right attitude. Which isn’t the first time that I’ve heard this from someone, but it’s not like this is a conscious choice. I’m just not worried about some things while I’m terrified of others but at the end of the day I’m just so excited to meet his little man who’s been kicking me and stealing all of my energy, food, and air for the last 31 weeks. Who, speaking of, has his adorable little food lodged directly into my left rib at the moment.
My baby is over 3 pounds, blah blah bag of oranges, sock full of nickles, etc. You get the idea. He enjoys blinking, sucking his thumb, long walks on the beach, and kicking me in the ribs and dislikes when mom tries to sleep and loud noises. At this point, I just sit on the couch and play “guess that body part sticking out of my belly” with Angel, who always looses because I’m not only a contestant, but also the judge. Poor guy.
At this point in my pregnancy I totally round down to TWO MONTHS when people ask how long I have left, especially when smashy objects are within reach.
I filed for my maternity leave last week! That means that I’m free to mentally check out of work not that it’s been approved to let me leave on October 26th and not come back until February. Computer passwords, what?
And ohmygod how I can I forget to mention that we got our nursery furniture delivered last week!! We’re still missing a few pieces, but the dresser and crib are here, and that’s really the most important part anyway. So naturally, I spent hours getting everything set up and put away. I still have a little bit to do and organize before I move on to the baby’s bathroom (exchanging prescription medicine bottles for band-aids and infant shampoo). Still a work in progress, but here’s what adorable little Mini Me’s room looks like:
Now because my beloved La-Z-Boy has been relocated to its rightful home, I’ve been reading my Kindle in the nursery and falling asleep almost daily. This weekend I woke up in the chair and found Molly sleeping on the floor right next to me guarding me and the baby. I’m guessing that she wouldn’t be nearly as protective if she knew what this little man is going to take from her in 8-9 weeks.
So there you have it. A delivery deadline, a nursery, and a protective dog. That about sums up my week!