That’s right – eight weeks to go! Now is the time for my pregnant mind to go into overdrive (I fear it might overheat and explode!). The nursery just got painted, but has no floor. I have no idea what to do to in the way of decorations. (This would definitely be easier if I had the option to decorate the whole room in pink and tutus. However, I doubt my husband would allow his future NFL star to be subjected to such a thing!) And because my nursery is under construction – keep in mind, only 2 months from my due date – the rest of my house has been thrown into chaos. It’s amazing how much crap you can accumulate in 3 years! And this crap, which until recently found it’s home in our “junk room”, has now been displaced and lies scattered across the kitchen table, the piano, the island and the newly formed junk room (formerly known as “the office”). While chaos usually doesn’t bother me, I feel that “nesting” instinct kicking in and that does not mix well with my hurricane-destroyed home.
On a side note, why is it that in pregnancy, you feel like crap for at least the first half but when you finally get into the third trimester and feel the urge to take a toothbrush to your baseboards and organize the refrigerator, you are as big as a house and in need of a “oversize” banner and flashing lights attached to your person? But I digress…
Wednesday was my 32 week doctor appointment, which revolved around a growth ultrasound. I was thrilled to be able to see our little man again and spent the weeks leading up imagining what he would look like now (not having seen him since my 20 week ultrasound). It was a wonderful as I had imagined. We even got to see his face..chubby cheeks and all. Thankfully, everything was normal and, unlike my fears, he is set to be a fairly average baby in size. This is a huge relief as my husband comes from a family of rather large babies! See his face in the picture below? His nose was a little smushed by the ultrasound probe.
The one thing that all pregnant women dread when it comes to pre-natal visits, no matter how joyous the ultrasound appointments may be, is the time in the appointment for your vitals to be checked. It honestly makes you feel like a cow being weighed at a slaughter house. (I always feel like asking my nurse, “Do you mind if I take off my shoes? Maybe my jewelry? Oh, and my jeans – they must weigh 5 pounds!) I personally have never really had to worry about my weight but to see my numbers go up significantly every visit is very difficult, especially in my exceptionally sensitive emotional state. To top that off, from the dozen or so appointment I have been to since all this started, no one has ever mentioned my weight gain. Of course, I don’t want anyone telling me whether or not I’m fat but if you’re going to monitor it so closely, can I at least have some feedback. Is it too much? Too little? Am I starting to resemble a small, beached whale?
Another thing I find amazing about pregnancy is the effect it has on the people around you. For some reason, being pregnant gives anyone and everyone license to proclaim just how big you look since the last time they saw you. I can’t believe the number of people who have actually asked me how much weight I have gained? While it is deemed socially unacceptable to ask any women about their weight, if they are pregnant, all bets are off. This is where I wish I had the power to make someone’s head explode with my mind! I don’t care if I look like I have a basketball under my shirt or if it’s “all belly”, if you tell me again how much I’ve “blossomed”, I’m likely to hit you over the head with my jar of pickles!