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Not much longer…

33 weeks and 5 days..

We’re half-way through the eighth month of pregnancy and Niblet is approximately 18 inches long and about five pounds. If she were born now, she’d have an excellent chance of survival and likely wouldn’t have any lasting health problems. HOWEVER, the longer she stays in, the stronger her lungs, the more developed her brain, and the better off she will be. So, Niblet. STAY PUT. Trust me, life inside the womb is about a million times easier than life outside the womb, so no rush baby girl. No rush.

She’s as busy as ever. I don’t really feel “kicks” anymore, just elbows and knees sliding around, and little feet poking out under my sternum when she stretches her legs. Mike has always said that sleeping next to me is like sleeping next to a sack of elbows and when I’m out of town he says he only needs to put a pile of rocks and twigs in the bed and he wouldn’t miss me at all. So now that there are all these knees and elbows sticking out of my belly all the time, he teases that Niblet takes after me completely. I like to press my belly against his back when we’re falling asleep and let Niblet poke at him with all her pointy appendages. It always makes him laugh. I can’t believe I’m going to be putting those little appendages in my mouth soon. (What? You don’t want to eat baby elbows and knees for supper? YOU KNOW YOU DO.)

I’m still feeling great, though my energy is beginning to lag. My midwife put me on restricted work hours, so I’m down from 40-45 hours a week to 30 hours a week max. I thought I’d use all that extra time to finish the nursery and get ready for the holidays but Niblet has had other plans. She insists I spend all that extra time napping and who am I to argue with a developing fetus?

Most of my symptoms have stayed the same: Lush hair, gorgeous skin on my face – but don’t hate me because my behind and the backs of my legs tell a different story. (Who the F gets acne all over the backs of their legs?? ME WHEN I’M PREGNANT, APPARENTLY.) I’ve developed a faint linea nigra and I kind of love it. I have heart burn sometimes, but it’s never awful and it never lasts long. I can’t hide my toots anymore. They just poomp out whenever they want. I have no control. Mike laughs, thank goodness.

Everything makes me cry now, it’s such a cliche. I mean, I don’t CRY cry, but pretty much everything makes me choke up. Happy things, sweet things, anything baby related, you get the idea. My bellybutton is turned completely inside out and my favorite thing to do is torture Mike by trying to stick it into his inny bellybutton. I call it “sweet sweet bellybutton lovemaking”. HE HATES IT. And he’s afraid to push me away because he doesn’t want to hurt Niblet, so I just torture him and torture him and torture him. Bwahahahaha!

The Braxton Hicks contractions I’ve been having since week six have started getting pretty intense. I never have more than a few a day or three in an hour, so midwife insists it’s just good practice and nothing to worry about. This probably sounds nuts, but I’m really looking forward to labor. I’m not super jazzed about the part where an eight pound human pushes out of my girl bits, but I’m really looking forward to the rest of it.

Pregnancy brain is in full force. I completely forgot to take a 33 week photo and I haven’t updated my handwritten pregnancy journal since week 30. Christmas is in less than a week and I haven’t done any Christmas shopping, or any Christmas baking. I haven’t finished my State Bar Law Study Semi-Annual Report and I haven’t made any progress on Niblet’s nursery since before Thanksgiving.

HOWEVER, I had lovely maternity photos taken and even got a Christmas photo out of them, and then I proceeded to send out over 30 Christmas cards, which felt like a HUGE accomplishment. Last Sunday I had a Super day and decorated for Christmas, washed six loads of laundry, then sanded Niblet’s dresser so Mike can paint it (using no-VOC paints with no-VOC colorants, OF COURSE.) But most of my time is spent napping. And keeping my feet up. And marveling at the water monkey and her adorable uterine acrobatics. And practicing my non-medical labor comfort techniques with Mike every night before bed. And attending Baby Care and Child Birth classes. And reading baby books.

Only four to eight weeks left of this journey and then our lives change forever. I can’t wait.


Officially 8 Months Pregnant

Whoo boy! It’s been nearly a month since I posted, I have no idea how that happened. Well, actually, I do. I’m knocked up and nesting and maniacal. No seriously, the nesting hormone is no joke. I’ve been obsessed with clearing out our second bedroom so it can become Niblet’s nursery. And it’s a good thing I’ve been so focused because it has literally taken me the entire month to clear out, clean up, organize, and purge. I’m finally at the point where I can start decorating, but now I have to take a break from my happy nesting and prepare my 18 month State Bar Law Study report.

Oh life. Why must you be so BUSY all the time?

In the last month Niblet has:

  • Grown to be nearly 18 inches long and weigh approximately 4 pounds
  • Learned to move her head from side to side
  • Gone from having see-through skin to opaque skin
  • Gotten strong enough to grasp your finger (not that I want you poking around at her)
  • Has developed all 5 senses
  • Is begun experiencing REM (dream-cycle) sleep
  • Continues to practice her breathing
  • Begun losing the lanugo that covers her body

My last midwife appointment was awesome. Our stats are great, I only gained three pounds in the last month (yay for walking every day!), and Niblet is in the head down, back to my belly position, getting ready to make her grand entrance into the world. (She could turn, but I’m keeping my fingers crossed that she’ll stay put.) She’s super active. I’m feeling a lot of elbow-jabs and feet sliding back and forth under my boobs. I’m having Braxton-Hicks contractions daily, which my midwife says is an excellent indication that labor will kick in on its own and progress beautifully. We started a child birth prep class two weeks ago and it’s wonderful – I’m daydreaming about labor, I’m so looking forward to it.

People’s comments have been much kinder lately. A couple of weeks ago a man came up to me in the market to tell me his wife was in labor at that very minute. “What are you doing HERE?” I asked. “I’m going to make her a lasagna! When are you due?” When I told him I still had 2 1/2 months left he said, “Gosh, you look like you’re due any minute! WAIT THAT CAME OUT WRONG, YOU’RE GORGEOUS, YOU’RE REALLY BEAUTIFUL. YOU’RE ABSOLUTELY ADORABLE. YOU’RE NOTHING BUT BELLY. YOU’RE SO BEAUTIFUL!” It was pretty much the sweetest thing ever.

I’m falling more and more in love with my enormous pregnant body, even as I become more and more uncomfortable maneuvering it around. Getting shoes on and off is increasingly difficult. Getting up off the sofa and hauling myself out of bed illicit grunts and groans. If I sit on the floor I need help getting up again. I have to keep my feet up at work so they don’t swell like hobbit feet. I stand sideways in front of the kitchen sink when I do the dishes. I have to be careful on the treadmill so I don’t slam my belly into the machine. I can’t hug Mike as hard as I used to because, ouch, squishing the baby. I painted my own toenails for the last time the other week, dear lord that was exhausting and difficult. The only reason I’m still shaving my legs is because my shower has this wonderful ledge about chest-high that I can put my foot on (THANK YOU 14 years of yoga) and thus shave quite comfortably. (Maybe I should try it for pedicures?)

This ‘having to pee all the time’ thing is no joke. I frequently pee an average of once every twelve minutes. No exaggeration. And it’s not like, “oh, I kind of have to pee. I’m just gonna squeeze a little out.” This is, “IF I DON’T FIND A POTTY RIGHT NOW I’LL DIE.” It is entirely Niblet’s fault. Sometimes she positions herself right on my bladder and I want to cry. The other day I went on a nice long walk with the dogs because the weather was too beautiful to walk on the treadmill at the gym. So I peed, leashed up the dogs, peed again, and headed out the door. I wasn’t ten minutes into the walk before I had to go again, so badly I had to grit my teeth. But then Niblet moved off my bladder and I was fine, so I kept walking. And then she moved again and I thought I would die of needing to pee, until she moved again and I was fine. So I kept walking and she kept moving and at one point I was sure I was going to have to squat on the sidewalk like a dog and piss in the shrubs. With all of Canoga Avenue speeding by. I had two thoughts in that moment: 1) Pregnancy strips you of any dignity you once had; and 2) how hilarious/humiliating would it be to get ticketed for pissing on the sidewalk of a busy main street at 10 o’clock on a Saturday morning?

We’ve only got two months left of this little adventure and it’s bittersweet. On the one hand, I am giddy when I think about holding her in my arms and eating her face every day. On the other hand, I’m really going to miss keeping her in the safety of my uterus. I mean, this is probably the easiest parenthood will EVER be. I always know where she is. I know she’s eating well and getting enough sleep. She’s not running around with unsavory people or experimenting with drugs or sex or doing any of the other terrifying things that children grow up to do. So, you know. I’m going to miss this.

I’m acutely aware of how quickly time is passing. Yesterday I was staring at a positive pregnancy test in utter disbelief and today there’s a very active water monkey doing acrobatics in my giant belly. Tomorrow I’ll be sending that water monkey off to college. So I am blissfully soaking up every swollen, uncomfortable moment. Treasuring every kick to the ribs, relishing every elbow-jab, and in general, feeling the happiest I’ve ever felt in my whole little life. I’m genuinely looking forward to the sleepless nights and bleeding nipples and diaper explosions and all the other awful-wonderful things that caring for a newborn entails because I know that that will also be over before I’ve had a chance to blink. And I don’t want to slog through it waiting for it to end. I want to live through and enjoy every poop and tear-filled moment. I tell you all this so you know that, even when I’m bitching and moaning, I’m so, so, so very grateful to be able to bitch and moan. What an unbelievably beautiful blessing.

Miss my weekly belly pics? I don’t disappoint! 

31 weeks

30 weeks

29 weeks