38.5 weeks

This weekend, I will be 39 weeks preggo, and in case you are wondering what it feels like to be 38.5 weeks pregnant (from my perspective), I'm here to share with you.

I feel enormous.  FOUR people this week have told me that it looks like I "stuffed a basketball" up my shirt.  I'm going to go ahead and assume that's a compliment.  I mean, they could have said that I look like I stuffed a basketball down the back of my pants, but since they only mentioned my belly and not the size of my butt, I'll take it.  (Even if I DO feel like I'm growing a second baby in my thighs.)  Does EVERY woman feel this gigantic toward the end?  I'm assuming yes.

I feel that I can no longer walk.  I waddle.  I don't understand why or how, but I can feel myself doing it when I walk, and no matter how much I try to stand up straight and walk normally, I JUST CAN'T.  I'm like a gigantic, roly poly Weeble.  I wobble and wobble but I don't fall down.  (Yet. But there's still time.) 

I feel chronically hungry.  Like, INSATIABLY hungry.  I eat more now than I have, like, pretty much ever.  And the thing is, it's not just mindless eating.  More junk food than usual?  Um...probably yes.  But yinz, my stomach NEVER stops growling.  Here's how yesterday went down, which is totally typical at this point:

4:30AM  I wake up to pee for the 7th time in the night, and can't go back to sleep because my stomach is growling, so I eat a mugful of Cinnamon Toast Crunch.  I share a few bites with the dogs, since they are kind enough to wake up and stare at me while I'm binge eating empty calories.

 

7:30AM I eat Rasin Bran WHILE DRIVING to work.  Very dangerous.  I do not recommend.

 

9:00AM I eat a bowl full of strawberries and pineapple hoping it will fill me up.  It doesn't.  Fiber my ass butt.

 

10:30AM I have to eat lunch now or I feel like I will pass out from hunger.  I eat an Amy's Organic burrito that you microwave.  It's pretty tasty. 

 

12:30 What do you know?  I feel like I'm going to pass out again so I need a second lunch.  This time it's a garden salad that I got at Central Market. 

 

2:30 OMG I'm starving again, but now I'm out of food.  So I go to Starbucks and get a Mocha Light Frappe.  The barrista looks at me with judge-y eyes and asks me if I meant to order decaf.  I tell him no, I did NOT mean to order a decaf, but thanks. 

I think but don't say that he should mind his own dang biz-nass.

 

4:00 It's almost time to leave work, but if I don't eat right this very second, I .WILL. DIE.  I remember that I have carrot sticks and hummus in the fridge.  I devour it in about 2 minutes flat.

 

5:30PM  I'm home, and YUP.  Hungry again.  We eat leftover pad thai and Jared makes salads.  For dessert?  CHRISTMAS COOKIES.  That's right!  I forgot they were in the freezer.  I pried those puppies out, thawed them on the counter, and we enjoyed a delightful assortment last night, to include BUCKEYES. 

HELLO.

To burn all of these calories I've consumed, I then proceed wobble over to the couch and take a 30 minute nap, which Jared convinces me is "a much better idea" than walking two miles, like I had planned.  This entire time, I'm acutely aware of the fact that when the baby comes out, it will likely NOT affect the fat content of my thighs or butt.  But I mean, WHAT CAN YOU DO? 

Now that I've shared my meal plan with you, don't you feel BORED enlightened?  Moving on.

I feel anxious.  About when labor will start, to be specific.  I read somewhere recently that you know you're ready to have the baby when you are no longer scared of the actual birth process.  Well I'm here to tell you that the fear of birth doesn't ever actually go away altogether.  Because, I mean, have you guys WATCHED THE VIDEOS?   But at this point, it's no longer really a huge concern.  I'm not really anxious about it anymore.  This gigantic watermelon has to come out one of two ways, and I've come to grips with that.  Drugs and stuff, you know.  What I'm anxious about is WHERE and WHEN I will go into labor.  My co-workers, in all their glory, like to make daily comments about the probability that I will go into labor at work.  It's like they want to make me as uncomfortable as possible.  I'm sure every woman that works up until labor is worried her water will break at work, right?  Obviously I don't want that to happen.  It's embarassing.  But what can I do, besides wear a giagantic diaper to work?  (Wait.  Should I be doing that?)  Just the other day, my boss said, "I hope your water doesn't break at work.  We really don't want to have to clean that mess up off the carpet!" 

FOR REAL.  He said that to me.  AND!  He has repeated the sentiment every day since then, almost always while standing in the middle of our office while it's full of people that he can make laugh.  Because apparently that's funny?  Then he says that he's been brushing up on emergency baby delivery and mouth-to-mouth procedures "just in case".  I told him that I don't care how sick I am or how much I am NOT breathing.  I would prefer if it NO ONE in the office touched my mouth OR ANYTHING ELSE when I go into labor.  Please and thank you.

You guys.  I don't make this stuff up.

I feel special.  I know.  All of my other feelings are sorta negative, but I have to end with the positive.  I really do feel special, because here's the thing.  When you look like you stuffed a basketball up your shirt and like you might be about to pop at any moment and like you are about to fall over from lack of balance...it turns out that people are generally very sweet.  Everwhere I go, people ask me, "When are you due?!" and "What are you having?!"  Women look at my belly, head cocked to the side, with a mix of nostalgia and pity (let's be honest), and almost everyone has kind words for me.  Perfect strangers tell me, "You look great!" and it almost always makes me want to cry from sheer gratitude for their kindness.

And NOW, a message for the baby:  Hurry up and get here already, would ya?!

About what a lucky girl I am. Really.

Last weekend, three of my sweet friends threw a baby shower for me here in San Antonio.  Brooke opened her lovely home for the party, and she, Jessica and Sarah all planned the party together.  And gosh, you guys.  It was such a beautiful party and such a special day for me, and I feel like the luckiest girl in the world right now.

 

Can I just wax poetic for a minute?  I've said this about a million times to these girls, and I said it the party last weekend, but I have to say it again.  I couldn't be more happy with how much things have changed in the last two years.  I remember when we first moved to San Antonio (almost exactly two years ago!).  I was so excited to be in a new city and to meet new people and to start the next chapter of our lives.  And then reality sort of settled in.  Within days, Jared got almost shot by the SAPD, we were informed we would have to live without our belongings for almost a month (hello air mattress and camping chairs), and suddenly that horrible thing known as an INTERN SCHEDULE changed from just an imagined expectation to a horrible reality.  And then within a few weeks, I realized that finding a job would be much more difficult than I thought, and suddenly we were pinching pennies like we never had before, and crying on payday sort of became regular.  Actually, crying several days a week became the norm for awhile, if I'm being honest.  Quite frankly, it was a depressing time for us.

 

But then, slowly,  things started looking up.  It didn't happen overnight like I thought it would.  It took some effort...a few times of getting dressed and going out to "spouse" and "meet and greet" type events for families new to the area.  And slowly I started meeting people, and slowly I started inviting some girls over, and slowly we started to become friends.  I distinctly remember that very first summer, lounging in the pool with Brooke and Sarah.  Sounds luxurious, but really, I was only lounging because I still couldn't find a job, so it was sort of fun but also depressing.  And about halfway through the day, we all started talking honestly about how moving is sorta harder than we all thought.  And about how we all were trying to find jobs, but it was also harder than we thought.  And about how we  were all sort of broke at the moment.  And about how we never, EVER, got to see our husbands anymore.  And about how that was really depressing.  And my heart warmed because...finally!  Girls that I could relate with!  It's amazing what you can endure if you have friends, that's what I've learned.

 

And I'm sorry, but this is a really long way for me to say that I am so, incredibly thankful for my friends here and for how far I have come these past two years.  All of us, really.  I'm thankful that I get to walk through this crazy stage of life with them.  Being a military wife is hard.  Surviving Residency (even as a spouse) is hard.  Smack those two together and it's REALLY hard sometimes, but I'm thankful that we can all share this unique life with each other.  And now, these friends are generously sharing this journey of motherhood with me, and golly, I'm just lucky. 

 

Okay.  I'm sorry and I'm done now.  But the Shower.  It was gorgeous, yinz!!!  So here you go.  Some pictures!

 

Sarah, Jessica, me and Brooke

A diaper cake!

The menu...to include Pimento Cheese Sandwiches, MY ALL TIME FAVE.

For all my joking about Pinterest, I just want to say that I officially deem this party "Pinterest Worthy".  

Of course, we played games.  Fun!

As I was looking through these pictures, I realized (not for the first time) how DRAMATIC expressive I can be sometimes.  I apologize for anyone at the party that was annoyed by my dramatic expressive facial features, but it's in my genes I think?  Also, turns out that when you are having a baby, baby stuff REALLY DOES excite you.  Like....OMG, I SERIOUSLY love this little carseat mirror so I can watch the babe while I'm driving.  For realz!

And yes, these burp cloths REALLY DID excite the heck out of me.  They are adorable!  And homemade by my friend Meg!

And this little sleeper?  Excuse me, but in the words of Rachel Zoe, "I die." 

It can't be helped you guys.  There was just too much cuteness for me to keep my face stoic.  I'm pretty sure that prior to getting pregnant, I would have made fun of a girl that got so excited about things like nipple cream and baby sleepers and burb rags.  So if you aren't yet pregnant and are silently judging me, it's totally cool.  I used to BE you.  We get each other.

The point is that I have great friends.  And I'm so happy.  And thanks to my girlfriends that hosted the party and to my girlfriends that came out and gave such lovely gifts to Baby Wilson. 

I'm just a GIANT, 36 WEEK PREGGO BLOB of hormonal thankfulness.

The Highlights of my Week

This week.  It has been...interesting.  So I will now bore you with the highlights!  Happy Friday!

1. Two weeks ago, Jared installed a Pet Taxi (ie: dog carrier) in the back of my SUV, along with a doggie bed for Bunny, because we planned to start training the dogs to ride in the VERY back of the car so that they don't mess with the baby in a few weeks. Bunny is doing great on her dog bed. However, Little Dog has gotten increasingly more anxious every single time I put her in her little carrier. Her Pet Taxi days came to a dramatic and sudden end on Wednesday. As I was driving her to Daycare, she was whining (as usual) and crying (as usual) and scratching to get out of the carrier (as usual) and then SUDDENLY I smelled dog poop. We got to Daycare, and I discovered that she had gotten so worked up that she had given herself explosive doggie diarrhea.

ALL OVER THE BACK OF THE CAR.

Too late to drive home, I had to continue on to work, where my car sat in the 87 degree sunshine all day long, GETTING NICE AND RIPE!, until I got to drive that poop-mobile home from work, trying not to vomit the entire drive.

That was fun.

2.  Shortly after getting home from work that same day, and after cleaning dog diarrhea, two MEAT salesmen came to our front door to try to sell us steaks.  We rarely eat meat, and I really wasn't in the mood, so I told them no thank you.  Then they kept persisting, so I told them that I don't eat meat at all (GOOD ONE!), and that since my husband was getting ready to leave for work, because he works midnights, they should come back another day (BAD ONE!). 

Then the strange toothless men started asking about the baby and remarking on the size of my stomach versus the size of my butt and how that SURELY means that I am having a boy, and meanwhile, all I could think of was how I just told two freakazoid steak salesmen that I would be home alone all night.

So when the dogs started barking at 2:30AM for no reason, I of course woke up and convinced myself that it was the steak salesmen...returned to come attack me and somehow take me hostage in their underground dungeon or some other such shenanigans.  I never was able to fall back asleep.

I'm going to stop watching Criminal Minds.  For real this time.

3.  Last night, I met my friend for dinner, who just happens to also be pregnant.  When I walked in, I immediately started scanning the faces there trying to locate my pal.  That's when the hostess walked up to me and said, "Excuse me.  Are you trying to find the OTHER pregnant lady?  She's in the back."

Well then.  Not sure why, but I found that to be annoying.  Like, she just assumed that all pregnant women are friends with each other?  I don't know.

4. This reminds me of the time, just a few weeks ago, that my mom was visiting, and as we were walking along the Riverwalk, we saw a girl that looked to be about as far along as me in her pregnancy.  And instead of just walking on, my mom looked at her and said, "Oh HI!  You're pregnant too!"  and then turned to me and said, "Look Meghann!  Another girl that's pregnant!"   As though we are very rare and should somehow greet each other.  Sorta like people that ride Choppers, I guess?  Like maybe when we pregnant people see each other, we should throw out a secret symbol?

That has nothing to do with this week so I apologize, but I thought it was funny.

5.  Today I went to Central Market during my lunch break to get some steaks for dinner (I said rarely, not never!) and a sandwich for lunch.  It wasn't until I got to the checkout that I realized that my two little steaks (4 oz and 6 oz respectively, for realz) cost $25.  TWENTY FIVE DOLLARS, people.  FOR STEAKS.

WTH.

Now I'm going to end this week on a positive note because I also bought an equally over-priced, deliciously over-fattening cookie at Central Market.  Which I will now eat.  Happy Weekend everyone.