37 posts tagged “pregnancy”

My doc says the baby puts on 30 grams of weight a day at this late stage, so based on its measurement ten days ago, the baby weighs close to 8.5 pounds at this point.

But that's okay. Skinny, old-man-looking babies aren't as cute even if they are easier to carry.

Buster

Maybe it was the eleven months he spent in the womb. The doctor said there were claw marks on the walls of her uterus. But he was her "miracle baby."

Yep, still pregnant. UNCOMFORTABLY SO.

There was a weird thing that happened last night that involved us going out to have my blood pressure checked in one of those free arm-squeezers at the local grocery-store pharmacy and needing to call my doctor with the results, but I don't want to get into it. I'm tired of all talk of pregnancy. I can't deal with phone calls inquiring about my condition. I can't deal with other people's constant speculation of when I might finally go into labor (or my family's clear and obnoxious disappointment that I didn't have the baby while they were off from work---AS IF I HAVE ANY CONTROL OVER THIS ISSUE). I just want to eat spicy food and watch tonight's premiere of The Biggest Loser: Couples in peace.

So, yes, we've moved on to the "home remedies" that will inevitably not work. Basically, I'm going to eat some spicy gumbo and pace the floors for a bit this evening. I have another appt the day after tomorrow, and I'm hoping the doc I see (a diff't one each time, dontcha know) will take pity on me and induce. Lord knows, my feet could pop at any second from the swelling.

According to the physician who performed yesterday's ultrasound (which was ordered to determine the baby's size).

My due date cannot get here fast enough. I am large, tired, uncomfortable, swollen, and watching *way* too much Dog Whisperer to pass the time.

From an e-mail I sent earlier today:

All the books say the swelling is normal (I look like a tick that accidentally clamped onto an artery, though). And my nose is wide. I keep meaning to take a photo to document how I look at the last month, but I'm not sure I'll ever be able to actually look at myself like this in the future. Photographic evidence of this period might make us rethink baby no. 2.

You know what you should not do when you are the heaviest and most uncomfortable you've ever been in your life? Watch the finale of "The Biggest Loser." Seeing all those fat people lose all that weight made me 1) bawl my eyes out, and 2) desperately want to run upstairs and jump on the treadmill. But the giant baby had me pinned to the couch and I couldn't get up, so I just laid there, ate another reduced-sugar cupcake, and let the cat lick the leftover icing off my swollen fingers. I'm all class right now, let me tell you.

I'll e-mail after my appt tomorrow if the doctor says anything exciting like "induction" or "dilating" or "definitely going to be a ten-pounder."

Today I did a bunch of office work from home.

And I downloaded a shameful amount of Manilow off iTunes.

Also, I sent this e-mail to my husband at work:

When you coming home? Phoebe puked in the office, and I can't get down on all fours and address the problem.

Oh, and I miss you too.

:)

At last week's appointment, I was informed that the baby's big (7 lbs. already), and I'm measuring two weeks ahead of my (obviously miscalculated) due date. So, I could blow at any time. The baby's already descended and everything. I hadn't dilated. (We'll see if that's changed when I go to this week's appointment in a couple days.)

I really think I could be a lot more productive around the house if my feet were not swollen to a SIZE LARGER THAN I NORMALLY WEAR and my toes didn't look like plump, about-to-explode sausages.

(Mmmmm...sausage...)

I have not purchased larger shoes, as I have three pairs that still fit okay. (Notice I did not say they fit "well.")

Everyone keeps telling me (likely lying) that I don't look as pregnant as I am---which is a compliment in that I am smaller than most nearly eight-months-pregnant women they've seen. I just smile and joke that I'm carrying high and tight, like a military haircut. But really? People just think I'm not carrying OUT, which is what they typically associate with late pregnancy: the really out-there belly. My belly is the most out-there it's been (I've got the over-extended, highly curved spine happening too), but it doesn't look like it's protruding that far because my boobs are so big. The boobs are throwing everyone off and making my belly appear smaller. A different, less-supportive bra would change my shape entirely.

Speaking of bras, I have to invest in a nursing one soon. I will probably put that off until the last possible moment, as shopping for bras ranks right up there with a root canal or attending a World of Wheels stadium event or having my car radio broken and only able to broadcast country stations and Rush Limbaugh. If I could outsource bra shopping, I'd so do it.

I have only three more weeks left before I go on vacation and then maternity leave. I can't tell you how excited this makes me. The job itself is not exhausting; it's the getting dressed, getting to work, waddling around the building, getting home from work parts that wear me out. The commute is killer, no doubt about it. And I look forward to the time when I will not have to maneuver this large body behind the steering wheel and brave one of the worst commutes in the country (FACT!) to get to work. When you have to pee pretty much every 40 minutes, an hour+ commute? IS A NAIL BITER. And you know who loves to wiggle around and press against my bladder while I'm making this hellish commute? Yes, the baby. The little miracle who is already in head-down position and according to my doctor "measuring big for my due date." [panic!]

In related news, this will be The Christmas Of The Gift Card for us. I've explained to my husband that I will not be setting foot in a shopping mall this holiday season unless he intends to get me a Rascal scooter or something, so I can just drive around the stores all lazily. No walking waddling around with the crazy shoppers for me, thanks.

Speaking of husband, I am currently washing all of his "painting gear" so that it will be clean and fresh for when he dons it again this weekend. Sigh.

is what you're thinking, I bet. But? I will go on a bit more about the painting because after the pronouncement in my previous post about how the painting would be finished by weekend's end...

the painting continued.

In fact, it's still unfinished.

You see, there are positives and negatives to marrying a man who absolutely cannot do anything half-assed (or what he considers to be half-assed). And so, what started out as painting merely two rooms turned into "Hey, I don't like it when the trim in the hallway doesn't match the trim in the bedrooms or the trim in the upstairs bathroom for that matter, so maybe I should also paint the hallway trim, bathroom ceiling, and bathroom trim while I'm at it."

And so, there we are: the bathroom was unexpectedly made part of this whole nursery/office thing, as was the hallway trim.

Last night, this crazy man stayed up until 3am working on the ceiling in the now-gonna-be office. The walls of which remain unpainted.

Painting. On a Tuesday. With an OB appt in the morning and then needing to go into work after it.

He's nuts.