At some point every day, I want to scream, “How am I only at 33 weeks in this pregnancy? Can I please have this baby already?!”
I am heavier now than I was at the end of my first pregnancy, and boy does my body feel it. My new gait has been dubbed The Clumsy Hippopotamus. I constantly bump into chairs, counters, and my son (“Oops, sorry kid, my belly just bonked your face!”). At night, I play the fun game of trying to discover what sleeping position won’t result in a sore back and numb legs. My tossing, turning and grunting is very sexy, I’m sure.
Recently, I began experiencing round ligament pain in my abdomen area, which is common during pregnancy. After checking with Dr. Google about the best forms of pain relief, I have been assured that the most effective treatments are decreased physical activity and asking others for help, two things I absolutely hate doing.
Even random strangers, who I cannot fault, have taken note. “When are you due?” asks the cashier lady in the grocery store. When I tell her that my due date is in a month and a half, she gives me a sympathetic look, and proceeds to tell me that her sister is about the same size as me, and due ANY DAY NOW. Hooray for your sister.
Meanwhile, our family is preparing for the new baby’s arrival. We are stocking up on diapers, making lists of things to pack for the hospital, and visiting with our new OB and pediatrician. At night, Aaron’s new favorite bedtime story is “The New Baby at Your House,” which highlights the changes a young child can expect when a new sibling is born. It was published in 1985, and transports you back to a time when kids had bowl haircuts and their fathers had bushy mustaches.
Soon we’ll be jumping back into the adventurous Infant Stage, which I vaguely recall as being characterized by more tears (some shed by the baby), less sleep, and way less showering. Oh, and a cute, tiny baby who makes all this totally worth it.