Okay, I'm done being pregnant now.

I've been sick all weekend, or I totally would've posted (or even taken) 36-week photos. My car won't start this morning, which is really a blessing because I intended to go to work today even though I'm still feeling sick. (I have a... summer cold? "Pregnancy cold"? Probably the dumbest thing ever invented. Bottom line is that besides not being able to breathe even more than usual and having a stuffy/sneezy/runny nose from hell, my whole body hurts and my brain is stuck in this half-sleep/half-awake state that pretty much makes me worthless as a human.) I was feeling moderately better when I snoozed my alarm 7 times and got up and dressed, but now I feel like I did all weekend and I'm thinking maybe it's best that I stayed home. I am 8 months pregnant. Due in 3 weeks and 5 days, as of today, and if that doesn't freak you out, I don't know what will.

Don't be mistaken, though. I am more ready than anyone for this girl to be born. I'd like to live in a non-pregnant body again, and I want to finally meet her. I used to be torn about wanting her in my arms vs. loving her in my belly. Today, I'm not torn. Feeling her squirm in my stomach is awesome and magical and beautiful and sometimes painful, but that cannot possibly compare to holding her to my skin and kissing her little face. Amirite, moms of the world? I'm gonna assume it's totally normal at this point to be done with this whole pregnancy thing and want to just go ahead and give birth now. Plus, I've already washed her clothes and organized her stuff and packed the diaper bag, so I'm thinking I'm basically ready now.

Oh, and I want you to know that washing a year's worth of clothes is incredibly difficult when you're pregnant, regardless of how small the clothes actually are. What's worse is that I only thought I washed every last onesie and sock and wash cloth we have for the first year, only to realize, when I was already mostly dead, that I didn't wash her 6-9 month clothes. In the grand scheme of things, this is totally fine. I mean, she isn't even born yet. I wonder a little bit about why I even bothered washing so many clothes in the first place, but when I imagine a scenario in which I didn't wash all those clothes, I feel like I just would've been setting myself up for more work later, when I'd rather be enjoying things like baby snuggles and avoiding household chores. I washed her 6-9 month clothes, though, just for the sake of consistency. Then, naturally, put them away because it'll be 6 months before she needs them. -ish.

My next baby bump appointment is tomorrow, which is the first of my weekly appointments and the first where my dilation will start being checked. In reality, we do have a few things that still need to get done, and, for baby's sake, I'd like her to cook as long as she needs... but that doesn't make it any less exciting to know that we're almost done. I am just a few short weeks away from having my very own baby!

Though I'll admit it's a little scary. When I called with a positive pregnancy test to make my very first appointment, they were all, "Great, here's your due date, and your first appointment is a zillion years from now at your 10- to 12-week mark." Uuuuh, what?! You're just going to leave me on my own 'til then? Now, I'm gonna go have this baby, and then they'll just send us home and be like, "Good luck!" And we'll get in the car and wonder why in the heck they just let first-timers walk out of there with nothing but natural instinct and some basic common knowledge to keep this fragile, foreign creature alive and unharmed. And right about the time that I'll be thinking we can maybe do this thing, a nurse will pop her head out the doors and yell, "Oh, yeah, and good luck with your new body, too! Gonna be a doozy getting it back to normal!"

Listen, I'm just saying what all first-timers are thinking. Maybe when Baby #2 comes around, I'll be a pro. Heck, I'll deliver that baby myself. Doctors? Pfft. I got this.

Sorry, Baby #1. We get to learn together.

But I'm not really sorry at all.

I've Accomplished Nothing (Unless Napping Counts)

Time left until her due date: 4 weeks & 3 days

Things I haven't done yet:

1. Washed her clothes

2. Packed my hospital bag

3. Installed her car seat

4. Sent out thank-you cards
5. Had maternity photos taken (Do I really have to?)
+ a ton of other stuff that I'm too tired to think about.

Justin goes to the gym, I stay home and nap. He folds the laundry while I surf Pinterest. He massages my feet while I go to sleep.

Basically, what I'm trying to say is that one of us is on top of things, and it's not me. He hasn't packed his hospital bag either, and he's totally going to be the one to install her car seat, but he's got energy and motivation and I have exactly none of either. The RN who instructed our birthing class said if mama starts "nesting", dad needs to shut that down! Precious energy must be saved for pushing that baby out! I love this advice and I don't love this advice. 'Cause stuff needs to get done, yeah, but nesting isn't so different from nestling when you're big and tired and ready to both meet your baby and not be pregnant.

I can sense, somewhere deep inside, that I'm about to let it go, let it goooo! (Fun fact: Customer service is not the most ideal job when you're 8 months pregnant and have had it up to *here*.) Multiple times a day, I think of all the clothes I've sorted that still need to be washed, our room that needs a bit of rearranging to fit her bassinet, the hospital bag I haven't packed and what I need to put in there, and the car that still needs a car seat so we can even bring her home. I haven't sent out thank-you cards for all the gifts we've received, but I also haven't had maternity photos done or even put makeup on most days, so that makes it okay...?

At the beginning of this post, I wanted to nap. Now, I want to get all of this stuff done right now AND nap.

We need a few key things in life at this point, and any prayers you can send up for us will be appreciated more than you know. We have been extremely blessed to have a smooth pregnancy and a healthy baby & mama. This is the home stretch, people!

Four weeks and three days is not a long time. And that's probably not even entirely accurate at this point. How many babies are actually delivered on their due date? I got distracted while researching that percentage and found a few resources that say your mother's birth history can be a good indicator for your own experience. If that's true, every baby I ever give birth to will come a week early. That will never do. Three weeks is simply not enough time. Ugh, but it's too much time! Will this be my life forever? Will I be constantly ripped back and forth from too much time and not enough time? I have a whole paragraph of things to get done in four three weeks. And look at me now. Blogging. Pfft.

I gotta go wash baby clothes or nap or something.

Pregnancy: All Its Glory

The fact that I haven't posted anything since 29 weeks is blowing my mind. That was years ago! I sit here now at 34 weeks and 5 days, which means her due date is barely more than 5 weeks away. Mentally and emotionally, I could not be more ready. Pregnancy is the longest thing I've ever done in my entire life, and I am so ready to finally hold her in my arms and kiss her little face.

These days, my rib cage and hip bones are fun toys to try and shatter. My bladder is more like a water bed or trampoline of some kind than anything else. She's probably the strongest baby in all the land, and I wouldn't be surprised at all if she just burst right out of my stomach to make her debut.

So far, I've gained more weight than they wanted me to gain by the end of the whole pregnancy, but the doctor and nurses just can't see where I'm hiding it, so they don't really care. They comment on my height at every single appointment, but no one seems to take the newbie seriously when I say I'm a little concerned I could hide a 10 pound baby in this mile-long torso of mine. WELL WE WILL SEE, WON'T WE?! (This is one of times where I'm totally okay with being wrong. I mean, "I told you so" just loses its punch when I'm the only one suffering.)

My ankles had a moment where they were so swollen, it looked like I was wearing ankle cuffs. I should say that this is not the norm, thankfully, but holy cow. Speaking of cows... my stomach is so tiny now. It can't hold anything. I graze. I'm a cow, but not in the way I thought I'd be a cow.

All in all, physically, I have no idea what to think of myself. The list of symptoms is way too long to mention all the pros and cons, but the bottom line is that I feel, simultaneously, at my best and worst. I heavily rely on whatever glow pregnancy is supposed to give me, because I mostly look like crap these days. I have roughly 2 pieces of clothing that fit me. Back in December, I was all, "Oh, yeah, I'm gonna live in maxi dresses all summer," which is so stupid because SUMMER IS HOT. It's hot. I don't care how late our spring rain is this year, it is way too hot for a maxi dress. All that heat gets trapped under there and I just can't do it. I need mini dresses. Sleeveless mini dresses that are soft and comfortable and that hold me together without cutting me in half. Is that too much to ask?

5 weeks and 2 days left. I have mixed feelings about pregnancy but my feelings about meeting/holding/kissing/staring at/singing to this baby are very clear. I'm ready whenever she's ready. (But excuse me while I roll my eyes because I know, I know, she needs more time. I GET IT.) Maybe tomorrow I can be selfless and who cares what I want because blahblahblah, it's all about her. But, you know what? It's gonna be all about her FOREVER for the rest of my life. I claim today, and maybe tomorrow, and the next week and maybe the week after that and the week after that. It's not a crime to want to meet my baby already, even if she needs a few more weeks to cook. I wanted to meet her in December when I learned about her and I want to meet her even more now, when she's almost ready to meet me.

ALMOST!