35 Weeks of Maternity Monday

My time together with “Maternity Mondays” is coming to a close in only a few short weeks.  Yesterday marked the 35 week line, and I think I can almost see the finish line from here.

I just got into the office from the doctor.  My appointment was just how I like them at this stage: uneventful.  In and out in 20 minutes or less with nothing more than hearing the heartbeat, confirming that the head is still down, and letting me know that he submitted my short term disability paperwork.  He confirmed what I already knew: that it’s going to be a photo finish for Thanksgiving.  His exact words were: “It’s going to be close.  You may be spending Thanksgiving in the hospital so I hope you don’t have any plans.”  I told him that I don’t care when I deliver the baby so long as he’s healthy.  He laughed and said “remember that” which I’m sure means that I’m going to need some affirmations written in lipstick on my bathroom mirror starting soon.

This week my baby is big.  Weight guesstimates seem pretty useless at this point since all he’s in there doing is gaining weight.  And since “normal” weights for newborns are anything between 6 and 10 pounds, I’m just going to label him as “big” and we’ll leave it at that.  He’s probably right around an acceptable weight to come home from the hospital if he could breathe without help, which he probably can’t quite yet.

I, on the other hand, am the very picture of motherly grace and beauty.  Also: waddling.  Mini Me seems to be awake at night when I get up to use the bathroom so I can only assume that he enjoys late nights and long walks on the beach.  I could use some more sleep, but he doesn’t agree and he pretty much already runs my life.  I may punch the next person who cheerfully reminds me to “get some sleep!” because I SWEAR I’m trying but it’s actually impossible to get the same slumber that I got before this experience because if it’s not the acid reflux it’s Mini Me kicking and if it’s not that, it’s my hip hurting because of the weight and if it’s not that, it’s one of the 1,000 other fun things I have the joy of dealing with.  I’m ready to not be pregnant anymore but this morning my doctor told me that “the baby and I don’t agree” so it sounds like I’m stuck getting fatter and slower, and more uncomfortable until the three of us can get on the same page.

I started packing my hospital bag this weekend because I’m still convinced that my Little Man is going to come early, in the middle of the night, and when I’m least prepared.  This must be the source of the mental need to nest, which I have a feeling will get stronger next week when I will no longer be working.  I also feel the need to decorate for Christmas before all of this happens because it’s going to be the baby’s first Christmas.  Seriously, the need to nest is so odd.  Baby clothes aren’t folded properly, so I must refold those clothes for the 8th and 9th times before he’s born- DUH.

So yep, things are uneventful and I’m still knocked up.  Angel’s just about on call now and every time I call him for something and he doesn’t answer I have a slightly embarrassing melt down along the lines of “What if I was in labor and you just missed it?!” or my personal favorite of “I WILL STAPLE THAT PHONE TO YOUR FOREHEAD IF I HAVE TO!” but then he just reminds me that I’m crazy and should probably sit down.  Both of which I usually have to agree with.

4 days of work, 5 weeks of pregnancy.  That’s all that’s left.

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