Last night while I layed in bed Devin was having one of his super-active periods. After Den came to bed Devin was still really active, so I told him to watch my belly. “Holy shit!!” he says. I laughed, because it’s something that I see all the time… the little foot-bumps and knee-bumps moving around my belly like a giant bug just under the surface, scooting around this way and that. My belly undulated and shook with the movements and kicks. Den found it pretty darn cool. :D

I just love how much Den is enjoying this pregnancy. He is SO appreciative and thankful and just in awe of what my body is doing. He loves to look at me, he loves to touch my belly. He admits that some of it is “weird” – but in a really cool kind of way, not a freaky kind of way. I am so happy we get to share this together!

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Why does milk taste so damn good? Not in a glass… in a bowl. With cereal. It’s just… omg yummy. I love cereal so very much. I am out of Crispix, and that makes me sad. (The cereals I keep stocked: plain Cheerios, Multi-Grain Cheerios Rice Crispies, and Crispix. Plus a little bit of granola and Special K. So plain! So yummy!) Cereal is the one thing that has gotten me from one end of my pregnancy to nearly the other end.

The other thing I really really really wanted was a chicken salad sandwich. I drove to the grocery store specifically for some of their very very yummy chicken salad, and some ciabatta bread. I found the bread… but they had NO chicken salad. I walked back and forth, as if either some would magically appear or the guy behind the counter would take pity on the poor pregnant lady and make me some. Neither happened. I ended up buying a roast chicken instead. Now I know that they must use the SAME chickens for their chicken salad. But maybe they use magic mayo or something, because my sandwich totally did nothing for me. So bland, so blech. Did not satisfy my craving at all. I was not happy.

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On one of my forums is a girl who was 3 weeks ahead of me. In fact, she and I are friends are she lives close, she’s one of a few girls from the forums who came to my baby shower. And I say “was” 3 weeks ahead of me because she had her baby yesterday!! (Whew, just made it through my shower! lol)

Cue panic attack. Here I’ve been thinking I have 6-8 weeks left to go, plenty of time. Then she goes and has her baby at 37 weeks. Granted she was inducded because of increasing blood pressure and swelling (plus she had gestational diabetes, adding more fun to the mix), but STILL. She was considered full term, and the doctors decided it would be better for everyone for baby to come out. (Not that her body hadn’t already started thinking that, itself – she was 3cm dialated when they started inducing her, and her labor just flew!) So suddenly here I am, realizing that you know, maybe I shouldn’t just ASSUME that my baby is going to be late. He could very well decide to come 2 weeks early, and still be full term. Which means… I do not have nearly as much time as I thought I did. (Or at least… I might not. I might still be sitting on my ass at 41 weeks, who knows.)

So Den comes home from work and I look up at him and say something along the lines of, “I’m upset at the house being so far behind schedule.” My eyes well up. Den looks cautiously into my very watery eyes and says, “Your eyes are all watery.” And then, much to my dismay, tears just start rolling down my cheeks. No great heaving sobs or anything, just constant tears welling up and spilling. Den came over and sat beside me, hugged me to him, and brushed the tears off my cheeks while I just cried.

I felt better when I had gotten that out. It was just one of those moments when I realized that I’m not sure I’m READY. I mean, the house isn’t ready, but that doesn’t really matter. But am I ready? I’m excited about the prospect of childbirth and meeting my baby and raising a child… but I’m just not ready to do it right NOW. Maybe another month or two. I just thought I had time… I hope I still do.

Today one of the other local forum girls and I drove out to the hospital to meet our friend’s new baby. (We had checked with her first, to make sure she wanted visitors. She did.) I had hopes that seeing a real newborn would help me deal with it all.

And you know what… it did. He is just… precious. So perfect and small. I held him in wonder. That’s what I have inside me? This little creature… I’m going to have one just like it? There’s one just like that inside me? It’s hard to believe. It’s just so hard to fathom, really. But holding that little boy… I knew that I AM ready. Okay, maybe not right this second – I am only 34 weeks (well, almost). But it reassured me that when it does happen I’ll be ready. It really made me look forward to meeting Devin… to seeing his sweet little face, to checking out his hands and his feet and seeing if he has hair. Holding that baby felt so right.

I’m going to be a mama. And something tells me meeting my son is going to be a completely mind-blowing, life-altering thing.

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Speaking of being “ready”…

I’m in several groups with due date buddies, all due in March or April, and everyone seems to be getting to that point where they are ready for this pregnancy to be over. They are sick of not being able to sleep, they hurt everywhere and can’t get any relief, they have heartburn and backaches and contractions and they can’t really imagine going another 6 weeks (or however many) more.

Except me.

Ummmm…. yeah. I’m still not close to that point. Oh sure, I have my share of complaints, the third trimester has certainly gotten harder. My hips ache when I sleep. My back aches at work (and afterwards) – though seeing the chiropractor this morning has helped that one tremendously (I can now walk normally once again, instead of waddle). I have heartburn that seems to come out of freaking nowhere and make me stop and gag for a while. I also have the newfound joy of having Devin’s foot stuck up near my rib for an extended period of time some days, when bending forward (or even leaning forward or slouching) is a rather uncomfortable proposition.

But at (nearly) 34 weeks I can safely say that I am still really enjoying being pregnant. I think I have just gotten wicked lucky with this pregnancy (well, besides the obvious just getting pregnant in the first place!). My belly still has no stretch marks (yet – still waiting to see them pop up), except very very faint ones immediately around my very stretched-out and flattened belly-button. My boobs have grown only slightly and aren’t really any more of a nusiance than when I was cycling (they are a little tender, but not wicked sore, not even the nipples). My belly is round and beautiful (people say it’s the classic “basketball” belly). I haven’t really put on weight anywhere else – I think my face is a little tiny bit rounder, but I have to squint to see it and I could be totally imagining things. Heck I’m still wearing my wedding band (part of the reason is because it’s winter and really COLD!).

So apparently my body really really sucks at getting pregnant, but it really good at being pregnant. I really thank it for this part. You are making up for all the crap you put me through before.

Now let’s just hope it’s good at the getting un-pregnant part and delivering this baby…