Did you read the title? That was your only warning.
So, I'm 26 1/2 weeks pregnant. That pretty much means that I'm living out the last of what every pregnancy book/blog/website or woman who has conceived a child tells me is that last 1/2 week of comfort before I explode into my own personal Hindenburg of 3rd trimesterness. (That reference is related both to size and gaseousness.)
I know I'm supposed to be a glowing, joyful, rosy-cheeked, basketball smugglin' mama-to-be, but sometimes I just feel like I'm reliving puberty. I get mad over little things (I'll save the tannenbaum saga for another day), cry over everything (especially that d*mn "Dear Sophie Lee" GMail commercial), my clothes don't fit right, and I'm breaking out so much that I hid my magnification make-up mirror. (Which now I can't find. Grr. See? Mad over another little thing.) More than that, I'm feeling pretty lonely which is really ironic considering I'm packin' a kickboxing Peanut 24/7.
Isn't feeling lonely the pits? Worst of all is feeling sorry for your lonely self, but not feeling up to making plans. I know I could call someone or hop in the car and visit a friend or family member, but wallowing seems to be my action of choice. Lather. Rinse. Repeat.
The truth is that I thought I had plans tonight, but there was a miscommunication leaving me chillin' solo. (Note: Chillin' solo sounds like fun. I'm contemplating cleaning the bathroom to keep busy.) I suppose this is enough self-pity to last for some time, so I'll digress into a happy tale from not so long ago.
Late July: (Please imagine a Zach Morris-esque fade out to a booth in Panera)
Me: I don't get it. I've been eating right, working out, and drinking buckets of hose water. Why is my weight plateauing?
BFF Amanda: Maybe you're pregnant.
Me: . . . (Internal monologue: What? Is that possible? Nobody gets a bun in the oven that fast! Should I buy a pregnancy test? While I'm at it should I get some prenatal vitamins? No! I'd be jinxing us if I spent money thinking that I was already pregnanct. I did have that piece of cake last week. That's the problem with the weight plateau. Oh yeah. And the cake was chocolate, so I know it is doing its cakey duty and hanging onto my thighs for 3 additional weeks. Pregnant? Bahahaha.) Pregnant? That'd be funny!
BFF Amanda: Okay, so . . .
4 minutes later (Internal monologue: Maybe I should just swing by Target to pick up a test to be sure.)
The next morning when a second pink line let me know that Peanut was officially enwombed, my first thought was of how to tell the news to my partner in crime. You see, Jason was away at band camp. (Take a minute to chuckle at your own band camp joke.)
Jason is a choir teacher for the local high school and attends band camp each year to help out with the marching program. I, despite 8 years of trumpet/french horn playing, opt out of spending a week in the unairconditioned dorms of Bluffton with 130 teenagers.
I knew Jason would be home in the early afternoon, so I had approximately 6 hours to come up with a clever way to let him know that he was packin'. Fortunately, I am an OCD-licious, sentimental gal and had purchased a tiny pair of Cleveland Browns socks months before we even considered adding to the world's population problem. I ransacked the linen closet (my hiding location of choice) and found said pair of itsy-bitsy orange and brown socks. After wrapping them, I hustled to work wondering how I would keep the secret until 2ish when Jason should arrive home.
After the longest 5 hours of shoe-assisting, I headed home to give Jason the telltale package. I was jittery even while walking into the door. Things would NEVER BE THE SAME after this news. After 3 minutes of chit-chat about camp and work, I nonchalantly (yeah, right- my hands were sweaty geysers) tossed a small package at him with a witty, "I got this for you."
He slowly peeled away the wrapping and said, "Socks? You got me socks?"
Me: Uh-huh.
J: Browns socks? Thanks.
Me: . . .
J: They're for a little person.
Me: . . .
J: Whose little person?
Me: . . . Your little person.
J: Really?
Me: (Nods. Cries.)
J: Wow.
(Big hugs and kisses- Crazy happiness ensues.)
Gratitude List
Happy memories
Christmas dance at school
Dinner out at Cassano's
Only 4 days until we find out if Peanut is XX or XY
Surprise bonus time to clean the bathroom (or take an unexpected nap)
So which are you voting for - XX or XY? And yay for Cassano's!
ReplyDeleteI go back and forth between really wanting a boy or really wanting a girl. Until I watched the ultrasound on slow three times in a row, I was convinced that Peanut was a girl (based solely on other's comments and my unsatisfiable need for citrus), but while watching the ultrasound, I think I saw a little peep chillng between two thighs. So now, who knows? (Other than Dr. B, God, and Peanut...)
ReplyDeleteI love reading your thoughts, you can articulate experiences, ideas and feelings that I've shared but would never be able to craft into a witty, interesting blog post. So either you're normal or I'm as crazy as you are...
ReplyDeleteLove the blog!! I agree with Gwen . . . you are able to articulate things in such a witty, interesting way and it's always nice to read and learn more about what's going on with you and my soon to be niece or nephew (only 3 more days until Peanut is no longer gender neutral!)! =)
ReplyDeleteThanks! I'm hoping that if I get these feelings out I, a. might not feel them so intensely, b. may help someone else who feels similarly, or c. provide others with a more complete sense of sanity! Plus, I love the comments and stat counter!
ReplyDelete