Today I have been especially uncomfortable. I’m going to do something new: I’m going to write about how excited I am that’s it’s the weekend. We’re going to the zoo tomorrow. We haven’t been in over a year, and spring is the best time to go. The animals will be over the whole winter sleep, and it’s not so hot that all they want to do is hide from the sun in their enclosures. We’re taking a ton of pictures to further demonstrate the awesome-ness of our new camera. Deven is big enough now that he probably won’t need a stroller. The walking will be rough for me, but it’s the best thing for this whole possible-impending-labor thing. Mainly, I am excited because we haven’t done any type of family in so long, since I have been working weekends. This *might* be the last care-free weekend we have for a while, so goddammit, I am determined to make the best of it.
And my house smells divinely of chicken breast cooking in a sauce pan. I’m starving. I’m going to take advantage of this opportunity.
I know you guys are just as tired of me writing about being pregnant. It’s just as tiresome as hearing about my toddler’s toilet habits. I should change the name of this blog to Being Pregnant Sucks: We get it, already.
If you think hearing about it sucks, be thankful you don’t get a constant 24 hour feed of the thoughts racing through my brain at any time. I could totally do that, you guys, except that I have pretty much given up on Twitter. It’s lost it’s appeal. At this point in the game, after being told I am even closer to the end than I originally believed, it’s become an obsession. It’s an obsession that I try to prevent from actually becoming an obsession, except in doing so, I become more obsessed. When I catch myself dwelling on it too much, I try to talk myself out of it, and encourage myself to just be patient, but I spend just as much time trying to forget about it as I do just flat-out obsessing over it. I’m obsessive. DOES ANY OF THIS MAKE SENSE?
For those of you who have no idea what this is like: Being this close to giving birth is like waiting for Christmas, for obvious reasons (babies make GREAT presents.) Only thing is, you don’t know when Christmas is going to come, and it’s uncomfortable, so it’s like waiting for a late period, only instead of just bloody discharge, you’re going to be passing Santa Claus through your birth canal, or in this case, your unholy chimney.
I’m to the point that being upright is so incredibly uncomfortable. I get sharp pains in my “Chimney” when I stand, and getting up triggers contractions. It feels like the weight of my entire body is centered in that area. This baby is locked and loaded, I am dilated, and if he is born tomorrow he will be FINE. So WHY WON’T HE JUST COME ALREADY AND END THIS MISERY FOR ME?
I love our new camera. It’s exactly what I was looking for: something slightly more sophisticated than our old Powershot. It’s still easy to use, and it takes awesome pictures. Let me show you:
This is the humbling image of my humongous belly from my perspective. Notice how the camera was able to catch the visible pet hair and possible dandruff.
This is what others, such as my three year old and my dog, are subjected to. I don’t think there is a camera in existence that can truly capture just how disturbing this really can be.
Just ask Kameron. That face knows true fear.
And here are my Rush bobble heads. Why not?
*Sigh* Today was just a boring Wednesday. I went to Target and spent way too much money, and then took Deven for a walk after school to see if I could maybe jump start the labor process.It didn’t work, and I don’t think I’ll do that again for the duration of this pregnancy. I couldn’t make it as far as I would normally have gone, and my hips were KILLING ME. I need to just relax. This kid is going to make his appearance when he makes his appearance, and that is that. Nothing more can really be done. I’m just so exhausted.