Can I just ask WHAT is a crenshaw melon? I’ve never even heard of one before. But apparently (according to the ever-helpful BabyCenter development newsletter), that’s about how much my baby weighs right now. They’re really committed to these fruit comparisons, aren’t they? I mean, at first, I saw the merit. The size of the baby was a mystery to us and having a well-known visual to apply it to gave us a good idea. A raisin, a kiwi, etc and so forth. But by now, most of us have got to figure this baby is pretty much the size of… a baby. Maybe a smaller baby, but STILL. We get the idea. So when I get these weekly emails, I’m often left more uncertain of what exactly the fruit describing my child this week is and less about the actual dimensions of my child. Anyhow. If you ever wanted to know what a crenshaw melon was, well, there you go.
It has not escaped my notice that a) yesterday was officially TEN DAYS until this child is born and b) today I am 36 weeks along. Next week, ya’ll. NEXT. WEEK. I think I just felt my heart skip a beat as I was writing that. I feel like I’m riding on some sort of razor thin high-wire right now.
On the one hand, I cannot wait for this baby to be born. I’ve officially reached the point in pregnancy where I’m sick and tired of being pregnant. Sleeping at night is getting more… interesting. It takes me at least a good hour to fall asleep, and it doesn’t matter how tired I am when I lay down either. Then, when I *do* fall asleep, I have crazy dreams all night long. Last night, I had the distinct impression that they were heavily influenced by “The Legend of Billie Jean” which we watched on On Demand before we turned in. (NOTE: I do not recommend this movie unless you are fully prepared to indulge in the ultimate in 80’s cheesiness.) I’m fully surprised they didn’t turn into nightmares based on that fact alone. Plus, I think I’m getting a cold. My throat has been sore all day and my congestion has officially gotten out of control. I’d like to think that the sore throat is merely because I snored so heavily all night long. (Really, I would.) But I have my doubts. Walking, as you’ve noticed on this blog no doubt, has gotten downright difficult. I get heartburn after I eat just about everything. I’m spending a lot of time feeling like a giant, unattractive whale. So yes, I am ready to be done here.
I also cannot wait to meet this baby. All of her hiccups and kicks and wriggles are like little teasers about what she’s like. I want to see her little face, see who she looks like, touch her soft fingers and smell her sweet head. I cannot wait to dress her in some of the absolutely adorable outfits I’ve been going through the last several days. I want to introduce her to the boys and take a picture of Harry holding his baby sister. I’m so anxious to get on with this next part of our lives.
On the other hand…
I want to slow time down, enjoy every last little moment while I still have the chance. Things are going to be different around here, I know that much. I want to enjoy Liam while my attention is undivided and have plenty of special moments with him in the next week. I want to have more time to get all the little things done that I’d like to have done. I feel SO MUCH BETTER now that the major things are all finished, like moving Liam into Harry’s room and cleaning out the inside of the van. But it would be nice to have the nursery painted and the wallpaper border put up. Same goes for the window valance. We should probably clean the house as much as we can, steam the carpets, give the kitchen a thorough cleaning, etc and so forth.
This is also my last pregnancy. This is it. No more. I want to cherish every little kick and, yes, even every Braxon Hicks. This is almost over, I’m closing the book on a chapter of my life here. It’d be hard not to get a little reflective and wistful. I don’t want to rush it. I want everything to happen in the time it’s meant to happen. I’m excited and apprehensive and happy and sad.
It’s gotta be those hormones.
This is me. I'm a thirtysomething stay at home mom to three kids. For years I was a stay at home mom to one kid and trying very hard to have more. It took a LONG time (ie: 6 1/2 years), but finally Liam arrived and charmed us with his blue eyes and ginormous, round head. Then we got a shock: I was pregnant again and this time it was a GIRL. Our hearts and home are full at last and now that we're done having babies, we get to relax (snort) and watch them grow (not too fast now, you hear?). Thanks for coming by, feel free to dip into my archives, read my About and History pages (just don't do Jackson's Story without tissues!) and make yourself at home.
