A Woman in My Condition

Well, folks, week 32 has arrived and my belly button is threatening daily to claim it's rightful place on my torso as my third nipple. Our little one has officially been dubbed "a squirmer" by our doctor and has taken up permanent residence under the right side of my ribcage. If I didn't already know that the baby is head down, I'd be convinced that all that jabbing and kicking was coming from it's prominent chin, rather than it's restless legs. (One look at Matt's and my profile and you'll understand that our precious kiddo is bound to have a Leno-rivaling chin.)

I'm still feeling quite well, although I'm entering what I fondly refer to as "the uncomfortable stage." As cliche as it sounds, I can't quite remember what my feet look like and look forward to re-acquainting myself with them. I'm feeling pretty cumbersome these days, and occasionally I sit down on the floor only to realize it will be hours before I'll be able to stand up again (as I have to wait for Matt to get home from work and help me up). I've still got a healthy appetite and am the proud owner of 30 extra pounds (thus far). I don't own a scale, so it's always a surprise what I'll discover when I lumber onto the scale at the doctor's office. Needless to say it keeps things interesting.

I've been enjoying some of the extra perks that come with the burgeoning belly. The other day I snagged a table while out to dinner because the man who had been sitting there insisted that "a woman in my condition" should sit, and graciously gave up his spot in the crowded restaurant. I managed to score first row seats on our flight to Kansas a few weeks ago, and even if a place posts "no public restrooms", they don't put up a fuss if I request to use the facilities. And if I so much as try to lift a grocery bag these days, a swarm of people surrounds me insisting that they help me carry the load. It's so bizarre. No complaints, though. The perks are nice.

Matt and I are watching our apartment slowly give in to a mountain of baby "stuff" and we've stuck a list to the fridge to remind ourselves of all that we have left to do (as if my belly groans weren't reminder enough!) before our little one makes his/her appearance. Highlights include scheduling a hospital tour, reupholstering a vintage rocking chair (our first ebay furniture purchase!), buying a swaddling blanket, figuring out a baby bathtub solution (anyone got tips on how we can avoid purchasing one of those giant, obnoxious blue or pink tubs with the seatbelt?), and making the used crib we bought smell better.

Needless to say, we've still got some prep to do.

I'm pretty sure the baby will be overdue, but we've had enough friends deliver early that we thought we should try to have the basics ready. I know several women who have the entire nursery ready within weeks of finding out they are pregnant--I am not like that. I've been living with a healthy dose of denial up until this point (not that I'm having a baby, but that I actually need to have stuff ready for when the wee one arrives). It's time to get my rear in gear.

Matt and I are SO excited to meet this baby, so part of me really wants the last 8 weeks to fly by, even though I know it marks the end of my life (and sleeping habits) as I currently know it. But as every parent keeps telling me, it will be the hardest and best thing that's ever happened to me, so I'm really quite eager to start the adventure!