Can’t. Breathe. …

As time goes on life with the belly is getting more and more uncomfortable. They say that as it’s growing it’s smushing my diaphram into my lungs … this is an understatment. Not only is it SMUSHING my diaphram INTO my LUNGS, literally, it’s KICKING it too! So I have the added pressure and feeling anxious about breathing – check. But I also have the random, and very frequent JAB in the diaphram.

It’s like getting the wind knocked out of you – except I haven’t fallen off the monkey bars. And what man invented the underwire maternity bra? Who thought it would be a good idea to put even MORE pressure on the diaphram. I mean, why not, really … it’s just the comfort of BREATHING!

They forgot to inform this genious that the belly keeps getting bigger, which in most cases means moving upward, outward and all over-ward … the boobs are in the way and anything on the boobs stays in the way no matter whats moving or growing.

Simply put, I’m in that uncomfortable stage – sleeping in 4 hour stretches at night is a good nights sleep and if I’m lucky I’ll get comfortable enough on the couch at some point during the day to dose for at most an hour and a half, if I’m that lucky.

And you know you’re pregnant when you’re frequenting the public restroom on an outing and after awhile you don’t even notice the fact that you’re sighing in relief when that sweet relief finally comes and the patrons on either side of you start to snicker. And I don’t even care.

Holy crap

Incase you all don’t read the comments as you read the posts … let me just reitterate what my mother-in-law stated. Aaron was 8 lbs and 13 oz.

Thats almost 9 lbs. Which is almost 10 lbs, which is cause for a freak out. Before you know it I’ll be birthing a toddler, who walks and talks and dresses itself.

I want a baby, an itty bitty little tiny baby. With the lamb cry and the worlds smallest bottom and fingers and toes that all fit into Aarons palm at once. With miniature ears and a button nose.

Yes I’m obsessed with miniature things. I’m that person in the grocery store looking at the sample sizes, not because I’m wanting to try a new product or I’m going on vacation – I’m obsessed with miniature things. The miniature mixing bowls for condiments … CONDIMENTS! Who needs a bowl for condiments, I do. And I have 4. The miniature cheese grater, whisk, spatulas – I own them all. The little miniature baby bathroom stuff, yeah – uh had all that BEFORE we got pregnant. I like miniature things … it’s cute and it makes me laugh and giggle – and it embarasses Aaron. (in public, the giggling … about the miniatures)

But 8 lbs 13 oz??? Thats small, yes, I’ll give you that, but … holy crap.

It happened

It finally happened – the leakage from the boobage went beyond the 4-lane highway strap nursing bra to the outer layer of clothing in a very visible, distinct, dark round circle about my nipple area.

Thank goodness I was at home and Aaron was the one to point it out to me. The milestones we’ve covered are endless.

Out come the nursing pads – which make you sound like a stuffed bunny when walking if your shirt isn’t baggier than the 4XL t-shirt Uncle Frank wins at his bowling league every year.

Baby proofing

A few weeks ago my sister and her 10 month old daughter came over for a visit. Within the first 20 minutes my entire house was on the kitchen floor. I had a bit of a wake up call – in less than a year I’m going to have one of these opening drawers, cupboards and it’ll be tall enough to stand at the coffee table and knock everything off of it.

And I thought I had put everything away before they came over, knowing that my neice is very curious. Nope, she found everything – things I had even forgotten I owned. So then we put her in the baby’s room, where toys and fun colored books and non-threatening objects reside in our house … but, oops, we still haven’t gotten heat vents put back on the wall – and oh, that fake tree in the corner with the fake grass thats so easy to pull out and play with, yea that was visible. And did I forget the crib wasn’t entirely put together correctly, with a few long objects poking out of it … ehuh, well – she found those too. And the closet doors we have yet to put back on the hangers – with all the fun bags of things Aunt Jodi thought she could hide in the baby’s room. And the outlets – we have SO MANY outlets.

Needless to say that after they left I rearranged my entire kitchen, there are no bowls sitting out on reachable shelves, the baskets that are in reach have baby tupperware and bibs and towls only in them, not the can opener, pizza slicer and scissors. I put those in a drawer – and then I went out and bought the do-hickeys that keep every kid and some adults from opening cupboards.

All the fun “decorations” I had sitting on books shelves or the coffee table, my crocheting needles and yarn – yea they all either went into hiding for the next ten years, the garage sale box or in the drawers in our bedroom – will also be lockable.

The heat vent situation, haven’t taken care of that yet – after 2 trips to Lowes and one to Menards, we have yet to bring the right size home to fit our vents … so we’re working on that.

And I’m sure the surprises have just begun. We have stairs – without carpet or padding of any sort, and although we registered for a gate or two, there’s also a door to the stairs, which will have to be perpetually open for the gate to be in place or there will be alot of distracting baby schaap while parent schaap races to open and close the door, without making it obvious and then hurrying to do whatever it is that needs to be done, all the while hoping other schaap parent is distracting baby from noticing schaap parent A isn’t missing.

My life just got complicated.

I’m growing a weed in my belly

I had a doctors appointment yesterday and found out that although I’m 33 1/2 weeks pregnant I’m measuring at 36 weeks – which could mean a number of things really. Like the baby is really stretched out, I like this theory because it would explain the constant need to stretch for breathing comfort.

Or it could mean we’re having a big baby – in the 8 to 8.5 lb range (God help me), it could mean I’m growing a weed instead of a baby – because holy cow it’s a growing maniac. It could mean, in theory, that I’ll deliver early. Hee hee … I like that theory.

But what it probably means, in reality is that I’m both growing a weed and it’s going to be in the 8 – 8.5 lb range. This, my friends, scares the living poop out of me. I was 7 lbs on the dot and if my memory serves me right Aaron was right arounf 7 lbs too – we weren’t big babies, or big kids. And now they’re telling me I have to push up to 8.5 lbs out of a lemon.

Thats right. I said lemon.

So inorder to keep my sanity I’m convincing myself that although I don’t get to pick the size of the baby, which, by the way, would be very helpful, God … if you let us pick SOMETHING about this birthing process; I get a healthy baby, which is far more important than the size. Size Does Not Matter.

Everything else looks normal and wonderful – I have one more 2 week appointment and then I start seeing the doctor every week. SO EXCITING!

Although I have some angst about that as well – because at the weekly appointments they do an exam to see how things are progressing – and we all know how my body functions in stir-ups – and to be honest I’ve got more gas now than I’ve ever had – this baby thing really squishes everything, I mean EVERYTHING inside of you – and there’s no controlling the output. I’m sorry.

I hope, I really do hope that I won’t have to write another post about farting in my doctors face, although I seem to be famous for it – I’ll probably go down in history as the girl who farted in her doctors face and then WROTE ABOUT IT ON THE INTERNET! But, if we’re being honest, and we are – I might have to fess up to more bodily functions gone wrong.

Watch out internet, Jodi’s having a baby.