Better late than never, right?
It took eight days for me to sit down and write a blog post. That’s basically an eternity in blog land.
So, what have I been doing?
I have been stuffing my face with Burger Rings, drinking copious cups of iced chocolate, and spending more time on Netflix than I would like to admit.
Today, I am 33 weeks pregnant, but I feel like I have been pregnant for one thousand years. It looks like I have swallowed a bowling ball. My nose leaks, my boobs leak, other things…leak. Everything leaks. I am constantly tired, and it feels like this boy is going to fall out at any moment. Pregnancy is full of glamour.
Right now, I’m struggling to remember what life was like before I was pregnant.
I spent half of 2016 growing a person and it seems strange to think that he is going to be here soon. Some days it feels like it is too soon and some days it doesn’t feel like he can come soon enough. I look around my bedroom and I see the bassinet against the wall and the stroller parked in the corner. There’s a table set up with a changing mat, bath tub, and a bulk box of newborn diapers. He has soft toys, bath toys, books, and all his clothes have been put into drawers. I still have a few bits and pieces to pick up before he gets here, but I am feeling more confident and ‘ready’ with every passing day. Fifty days until he gets his eviction notice.
It’s strange to see the number written down in black and white now. It’s strange that I can count down in double digits. It’s strange now that I can say that I only have seven weeks left (because I am an optimist and I believe he’s going to come on time or early). I had what felt like eternity when I found out that I was pregnant. February – the very end of February – seemed like such a way off that I didn’t give it a second thought. It’s a different story now we’re finally in 2017.
People are telling me to get my rest now because I’ll never sleep again. People are telling me to enjoy these moments of being able to get up (after a bit of flailing about) and go wherever I want, whenever I want because it’ll never be the same again. People are telling me to enjoy milk and spicy foods because I’ll be giving those up once I have a baby hanging from my boobs.
More importantly: People are telling me to enjoy the last part of pregnancy because, despite how uncomfortable it is, I will miss it. And I believe them.
Despite the panicked trips to the hospital, getting multiple kicks to the ribs, and having him use my cervix as a springboard, I am going to miss this. I am going to miss the ultrasounds. I am going to miss hearing his heartbeat. I am going to miss feeling his little kicks and rolls and hiccups. I am going to miss how I feel. Right now. It is terrifying knowing that every decision I make will directly impact someone else, but I have never felt a kind of motivation like this before. I’m not doing things because it’ll provide instant gratification or because I simply want to do it, but because it is best for another person.
I have learned how to stand up for myself. Not just to strangers, but to family members and friends. I finally get the parent-child bond. I understand why parents are so damn proud of their children and will walk through fire for them. Pregnancy has changed the way I look at life and how I look at other people. Heck, it has changed the way I look at myself.
2016 has its ups and downs, but I cannot deny that it was one hell of a ride. I never thought I would be where I am, but I wouldn’t have it any other way.
So, am I ready for 2017?