We have reached the point in this pregnancy where the hub is now accusing me of purposefully keeping his daughter from him, as I am apparently refusing to go into labor. Really, we're both getting anxious, albeit for different reasons. The hub is ready to hold her, to break my nine month solitary knowledge of our child, and he is ready to embrace this parenthood thing wholeheartedly. He has even downloaded apps to his iPhone for the baby - one to keep track of feedings and diapers, one that plays 40 soothing sounds for the baby, and one that acts as a stethoscope (we couldn't detect the heartbeat with it. Ugh).
Me, on the other hand, I have been realizing over the last few weeks that I must now embrace the idea of forever. Seriously, it has not hit me until now, and pointing out to me that having a child falls under the "forever" category doesn't score you smart points. Want to walk away from school? Drop out. Tired of being married? Get a divorce. Sick of your job? Quit. Don't like what you've chosen? Change your mind. But a child? That is forever. Unless you're Andie's mom from "Pretty in Pink" and then you just up and bailed on your family and you're an ass. But I don't have a meth addiction that keeps me from being a good mom, then years later get sober and beg my kids for another chance, because this isn't Lifetime television for women people!
Physically, I'm pretty much the same as last week. The baby has dropped, leaving my stomach a little more room to digest my healthy food. Gross. My gestational diabetes numbers are surprisingly good, since I've added ice cream to my night snack. I still occasionally get heartburn, especially at night, and especially if I drink too much Crystal Light during the day. My Braxton-Hicks contractions are at their worse at nighttime, and get stronger when I am exercising. I believe I am now waddling more than ever, and the fatigue has finally set in. My back, hips, thighs, abdomen, bubbies - everything aches. And I have become obsessed with my sea sponge, scrubbing myself almost raw with it. I don't know - maybe it's a nesting thing? I just want to squeeze them full of soap. Really, no sponge is safe.
The hub and I have Infant CPR class tomorrow night. We're not excited, and that's probably because you don't want to think about having to use it. But since my last CPR training was in the 6th grade, it is pretty mandatory. Also, our next doctor's appointment is Thursday, and we're crossing our fingers I have made some progress on the dilation/effacement front. But if you're placing bets? My hunch is that she is already being an ornery stubborn child much like her mama and she will have to be forced from her comfortable surroundings. Hey, I don't like cold weather either!
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