Friday, October 4, 2013

"37 weeks" is how you spell "miserable"

I am. I quit. I'm miserable. And I'm miserably typing this knowing my keystrokes are driving Curtis crazy, who's trying to sleep next to me, but I can't sleep and I'm late for an update.
I'm 37 weeks. More specifically, 37 weeks and 2 days along. Or by my new due date (the 22nd, but y'all know I go by the 23rd) I'm 37 weeks and 3 days along. Yeah, liking that one better right now for sure. Nineteen days to go! Ugh. Still going by the 23rd though.
So we're officially term. Not full term. Delivering at this point is safe, he'd make it, most likely wouldn't need the NICU. His lungs are nearly mature and he's practicing breathing, but I'd rather keep him in until at least the 20th, despite the pain. Preferably the 23rd. He's the size of a winter melon, about 18.5in long and about 6 or 7 pounds. He's practicing breathing, sucking, gripping, blinking and continuing to pack on the cute little chubby baby fat. At this point he'll gain about 1/2 an ounce every day until his birth day. Everything's packed and ready to go to VT for our homebirth, all I have left is my birth kit which is 1 day shipping the day I get my check. Yep, starting to get anxious now. I'll be headed up there on the 16th, the day I turn 39 weeks, with Noah. 
I can't wait to be comfortable again. I can't wait to not have heartburn, to be able to lie on my back or my belly or hell, lie down at all without acid reflux returning with a vengeance. I can't wait to be able to sleep. I can't wait to be able to eat and to walk without waddling, to be able to have spicy food again, to have my belly back, to wear clothes that fit me. I can't wait to be able to get comfortable or to go in a hot tub. I can't wait for nosy strangers to forget I exist sans belly, like they always will. I hate people who pretend they care because they feel obligated, I'd prefer to be left alone, especially at this crabby, moody stage of pregnancy.
Most of all, and probably most obviously, I can't wait to meet and hold my baby, to nurse him and snuggle him and tell him how much I love him and how all of this was worth it, every discomfort, every struggle, every doubt was worth it because it resulted in a happy, healthy baby.

We got a new dresser from a friend of mine, which is awesome. It's so big that I have one drawer that fits all of Sparrow's clothes, one drawer that fits all of Noah's clothes (and believe me, they have a LOT) and even an entire drawer dedicated to my cloth stash.
Which I was so proud of and happy about that I took a picture.

This isn't all of it, obviously, but it's what we're starting with and I'm SO excited. I love fluffy cloth butts!
I'm so happy for this new dresser too. Our old one was mine from when I was a kid and the drawers were broken beyond repair. It was bittersweet to toss it over the porch - watching childhood memories go, but I can't deny my love for watching things smash into a buzmillion pieces. I'm still a kid at heart. Watching things smash makes me feel all warm and fuzzy inside.

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