Number of times I’ve fallen since learning I was pregnant: 4, all on the same knee.
Number of onesies we have in our possession: 18
Number of places we have to put them all: 0
Number of times the baby kicks and moves in a day during the 3rd trimester: 5,001,345
Number of times I’m really actually bothered by it: 0
Number of weeks “left”: 4
Number of pounds I’ve gained since learning I was pregnant: 29
Number of those pounds are the result of my daily ice cream intake: 24
Number of miles I used to walk every day until mid-December: 3
Number of miles I’ve walked since then: 2
Number of times I’ve cried because I became sentimental and mushy: ~20
Number of times I did it on purpose: 15
Number of gallons of ice cream we’ve purchased since learning we were pregnant: 32
Number of tears I’ve shed upon realizing that I’ll have to cut that shit out in a few weeks: Infinity
Number of strangers who have walked up to me and patted my belly: 0
Number of not-strangers who have: 5
Number of times I pee during the day: ~15
Number of times I’m actually ashamed of those copious trips to the bathroom: 1
Number of maternity pants I purchased: 3, and 4 leggings
Number of times I actually felt cute and attractive in those pants: 0
Number of times I actually felt comfortable and cozy in those pants: 5,001,345
Number of times I totally lied when someone asked me if I was excited about the baby’s arrival: 6
Number of times I totally lied because I just totally wasn’t thinking about being pregnant: 6
Number of items I’ve purchased for the baby prior to January: 10
Number of items I’ve purchased for the baby after January: 38
Number of times I’ve wanted to be done with this pregnancy before January 20: 5,001,345
Number of times I’ve wanted to maybe stay pregnant for several more weeks since January 20: 5,001,345
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It is cold as all get out here in Chicago. Luckily, I’m now working from home on Fridays so I don’t have to go out until much later when I have to visit the midwives to make sure that the massive, stabbing pain I’ve been feeling all week in my bladder is normal (HA!) or something else. A couple of home UTIs reveal it’s probably nothing, but we’re not taking chances.
So yes, I’m working home on Fridays now. I am not a fan of working from home – I usually start working from the moment I wake up until 6 that night, and it’s hard to be out of the office away from people. But something had to give. I am in such pain these days, and to have a day where I’m not rushing around, and instead keeping my feet up and resting, is a necessary evil right now. That said? Oh I’m so grateful.
Tomorrow is my baby shower. My mom, sisters Kate and Devyn, and friend Ali are hosting it at an Italian restaurant not far from here. There won’t be any obnoxious games, thank God, but my family has been hard at work on all sorts of things. I am so, so thankful the shower is tomorrow and not Sunday, otherwise no one would be coming, what with the Bears all set to annihilate the Packers then. I love this town. It’s not the Super Bowl, but the playoffs, and you’d think that it was. Hell, we went to the Super Bowl four years ago and I don’t remember this town being nearly as insane about that game as they are about this one. It. Is. Awesome.
There is so, so much left to be done. Still no new bed, and Scott is off to pick up the crib and dresser on Sunday morning, but it’s not liable to be put together until next weekend, where I’ve marked off Saturday as the day to get the nursery together. We have so many things to put together that I cringe at the notion. We have boxes and bags everywhere upstairs, and I’ve just been too pooped to do anything about it. But I swear – that nursery will be almost done by next Sunday.
We did visit the hospital and got the full tour, including a brief peek into the alternative birthing center – a mom was on her way up while we were there so we ran in and ran out. Scott and I could not help but think we’d be messing with our own karma should we do anything to delay the time a mom in labor has in that room. It was so awesome we about did cartwheels. Birthing tub! Queen sized bed! Birthing equipment! Light dimmer! Private microwave and fridge! The best part? Oh it was just the kindness and support we felt by making this choice. The freedom to be happy that comes with the assurance of trained professionals that you’re not a total jackass for wanting this kind of birth is the best feeling.
Yesterday I had an appointment with the OB-GYN who works with the midwives group. Somehow I had the wrong address – I had the one for her office from more than a year ago – and so I was late, already sidelined by a stalled train and bumper-to-bumper traffic, and her name wasn’t anywhere to be found on any office listing, and I only found her by walking into an imaging center, crying, asking for her directions to her office.
I made it, but I was ridiculously late, and then had to sit there for another hour.
But I got settled in, and all of a sudden she said, “Let’s take a look,” and she lathered up my belly and did a quick ultrasound and there she was. It had been more than three months since our last ultrasound, and while my body obviously reveals that I’m carrying a much bigger baby than I was in early October, seeing her on the screen, clearly a baby baby, I about my lost my marbles with excitement.
She looks incredibly smart and kind, though she and I will have to a talk about the amount of rock ’em, sock ’em she’s been playing in my uterus. In addition to clearly being a discerning, charming girl, her profile seems to belie the chubbiest of cheeks, much like her Mama.
