It's almost birth time and I am counting down, willing the time to come, more so than my first two pregnancies combined. I can't be sure, but I don't recall complaining too much the first two times around and I feel like I have MORE than made it up for that this time around. Looking back, I probably should have been more appreciative because right now...
- I sleep with no less than four pillows. One under my head, one between my knees, one between my arms, and one behind my back.
- I turn over and change positions no less than 47 times per night.
- Ryan interrupted an unusual good stretch of sleep the other night by snoring and I have never been closer to smothering him with a pillow.
- Zantac is my lifeblood.
- Everything hurts.
- My feet are swollen and angry.
- I hear anywhere from 5-7 comments a day on my body - both positive (nice? thoughtful?) and not positive (are they trying to be nice and falling short? do they realize nothing they are saying is helpful?). Ryan says I'm being too sensitive and I want to punch him in the throat.
- I'm suddenly much more prone to violent tendencies (see above)
- Cam is asking a lot of questions - like are the doctors going to "put me back together" with duct tape and glue? I basically just answer "yes" to all of his little five-year old theories because I am too chicken shit to have a real, honest conversation about this whole process.
- Someone asked me the other day how I was feeling and I somehow managed to say with a totally straight face, "like a small human could fall out of my uterus at any moment... how are you?"
I truly am so grateful to be pregnant. But I am beyond ready for this child to vacate the premises of my body.
Take Luck,
LP
