I’m 35 weeks pregnant today.
Baby Dragon apparently had a huge growth spurt in the last two weeks – huge enough to make my doctor’s eyes get really big when she measured my belly a couple of days ago.
I could have told her, though. I’m down to two pairs of pants (both stretchy).
Do you know how inconvenient it is to be down to two pairs of pants when you’re this large and all your ligaments are loose, making anything you dare to eat take aim for the very fabric you depend on daily? I knew you would. It’s the one of the things that binds us as moms, right? I will not buy new pants, though. I’m way too practical to spend money on something I’ll only use for another month at most (my husband would probably say I’m too stubborn … pfffft).
I’m firmly in what some say is the hardest part – the last stretch of pregnancy. It was around this point with Moxie that I was sentenced to three weeks of bedrest because of scary high blood pressure, and at 37 weeks with Mojo I was given an emergency c-section because of pre-eclampsia. I’m holding my breath that I can just stay uncomfortable for a few more weeks with none of that nonsense.
Still, I’m huge, hormonal, and harried.
I’ve been struggling through a massive to-do list before the big day (set for March 30, barring any big complications/surprises), including a bunch of work deadlines, preparing meals for the freezer, gearing up for Easter (and the Easter bunny, lest he forget to show up at our house because of all the new baby hubbub), getting stuff ready for baby – sorting, washing, folding, stashing teeny tiny clothes, burp cloths blankets and itty bitty socks, checking inventory to see what I have and what I need and then rushing around stores throwing things in my cart.
The rushing around part is something I do in every part of my life, actually. If I could change one thing, it would be the amount of rushing around I do. Wouldn’t everyone?
I’m tired and want to rest, but I have to make a phone call/do an interview/write a story/race to the store for a birthday present and a note card/fly across town to basketball practice, etc.
I would relish the chance to sit quietly and watch Baby Dragon roll and punch and make my belly quiver and quake – but I have to hustle the kids into the bathtub and rustle up some dinner for us all.
I would give anything to just sit on the couch and catch up on the ONE television show I like to watch … instead I have to scrape off whatever food is crusted on my pants and hustle off for a volunteer gig.
I’m trying to find bits of time to enjoy life – to drink in the special and not-so-special times with Mojo and Moxie and my husband and to find little ways to indulge in my own special and not-so-special moments as well.
I guess I’m doing OK at it.
Now if I could just figure out how to let go of the guilt that my house will inevitably still be horrendously messy the morning I leave for the hospital … I have little hope of getting it in decent shape before then.
No matter though. It would just look horrendous again a few days later, so I think I’ll do the basics, expend the effort elsewhere and just revel as much as I can in the excitement (and trepidation) of meeting Baby Dragon and seeing how things change amid the sweet chaos of our little world.
*Photo by cafemama via Flickr