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37 weeks, 4 days
I've made it to 37 weeks and I have to say - I'm relieved. After all of the decision making, I would have been disappointed if I'd gone into labor too early. Of course this points up the fact that it's a good thing Lis and I are going to discuss the possibility of a hospital transfer. Not that I'd argue about any emergency situation, or even any serious suggestion. But she reminded me that there's a very real chance that I'll feel some form of grief if I end up delivering in the hospital, as it clearly isn't my first choice. It will be helpful to think about that ahead of time, I think.
That said - things are going well in the ninth month. Heart burn isn't too bad - happens every now and again, but tea and Tums help. My hands get a bit swollen and tingly, but my ring still fits. I get a back ache sometimes, but not constantly. It is getting to be a bit of a pain to haul my body around. I feel ungainly and awkward... but I really don't mind. I don't worry about weight gain, I don't worry about how I look.
Truthfully, I feel proud of my belly, of my body - in a way I don't think I ever have. I've nourished my baby, helped him to grow, to become the beginnings of a person... and I've done that with my body, not my mind. I tend to over-think, over-intellectualize, get stuck in my head. But other than thinking about nutrition and watching what I put in my body, my brain could have taken a nine month vacation and I would have been able to nourish my baby. It's a strange feeling.
It's a problem when I do start over thinking. I get anxious and start one of my spins. But when I listen to my deeper self, something in me says that this is going to be okay. Sometimes things will be hard, but then they'll get easier. Sometimes things will be scary, but then I'll get over it. Sometimes things will be wonderful and exciting and perfect, and then things will change again. It all will be what it will be... and mostly it will turn out okay underneath - even when it isn't okay at first. This is not a certainty I hold usually - but lately it's something I'm coming to believe completely. I hope I can hold it even when I'm in my darkest spots.
In other news - the wiggler has moved down some and he's still head down. I knew he'd moved last weekend when I went to Home Depot with Tom and I felt like I had to pee about every five minutes. And I was waddling, too (yaow - I am such the sexay thang. Hee). It was cool to know, even before Lis confirmed it by just feeling the abdomen. He's been a bit quiet the last couple of days after several days of being quite active. I lost a pound in between last week's appointment and this week's. I'm pretty sure I'm feeling some Braxton-Hicks. All of these signs point - nowhere! But of course we're all playing the 'what does that say about when you'll go into labor' game. With 17 days to go (give or take) I put a pad on the bed in case of water-breakage in the night, and have started washing the wiggler's clothes. It's really hitting home that there is going to be a *baby* at the end of all of this. Or the beginning, I guess. I can't wait to meet him.
That said - things are going well in the ninth month. Heart burn isn't too bad - happens every now and again, but tea and Tums help. My hands get a bit swollen and tingly, but my ring still fits. I get a back ache sometimes, but not constantly. It is getting to be a bit of a pain to haul my body around. I feel ungainly and awkward... but I really don't mind. I don't worry about weight gain, I don't worry about how I look.
Truthfully, I feel proud of my belly, of my body - in a way I don't think I ever have. I've nourished my baby, helped him to grow, to become the beginnings of a person... and I've done that with my body, not my mind. I tend to over-think, over-intellectualize, get stuck in my head. But other than thinking about nutrition and watching what I put in my body, my brain could have taken a nine month vacation and I would have been able to nourish my baby. It's a strange feeling.
It's a problem when I do start over thinking. I get anxious and start one of my spins. But when I listen to my deeper self, something in me says that this is going to be okay. Sometimes things will be hard, but then they'll get easier. Sometimes things will be scary, but then I'll get over it. Sometimes things will be wonderful and exciting and perfect, and then things will change again. It all will be what it will be... and mostly it will turn out okay underneath - even when it isn't okay at first. This is not a certainty I hold usually - but lately it's something I'm coming to believe completely. I hope I can hold it even when I'm in my darkest spots.
In other news - the wiggler has moved down some and he's still head down. I knew he'd moved last weekend when I went to Home Depot with Tom and I felt like I had to pee about every five minutes. And I was waddling, too (yaow - I am such the sexay thang. Hee). It was cool to know, even before Lis confirmed it by just feeling the abdomen. He's been a bit quiet the last couple of days after several days of being quite active. I lost a pound in between last week's appointment and this week's. I'm pretty sure I'm feeling some Braxton-Hicks. All of these signs point - nowhere! But of course we're all playing the 'what does that say about when you'll go into labor' game. With 17 days to go (give or take) I put a pad on the bed in case of water-breakage in the night, and have started washing the wiggler's clothes. It's really hitting home that there is going to be a *baby* at the end of all of this. Or the beginning, I guess. I can't wait to meet him.