37 weeks: whoa mamma

My daughter is now considered full term. I can’t believe how fast the time has gone by. Wasn’t it just the other day that I was 20 weeks pregnant? Apparently, she gained like 18 pounds in the last couple of days because she feels HUGE in there. Like, shake the bed when she moves at night huge. There are baby parts poking out of me at all angles now. When she isn’t hoofing me in the ribs, she’s trying to escape out the side of me through my skin. I won’t even get into the rolling around, which causes me to feel like I have to take a giant you know what one second and then has me buckled over the next.

Yesterday, the husband and I were at the supermarket and she dropped herself right onto my pelvic bones and bladder. I had to stand hunched over the cart for 10 minutes before I could move. According to my OB, she is head down, but I can pretty much guarantee you that she doesn’t stay that way. We watch as she turns herself around and stretches out in there sideways all the time. Oh the pressure. I’ll tell you what though – I am freaking ready to have this baby. Bring it on. I don’t care if I am standing at the photocopier in the office here and a tidal wave of amniotic fluid comes gushing out of me and everyone sees it because I AM DONE. Get this baby out.

I’m not saying I’m so terribly uncomfortable that I can’t handle it. I’ve been pretty lucky. I’m still sleeping well and I’m not very big compared to most women (18 pounds of weight gain now), but I really am tired of being pregnant. My boobs are tired of being pregnant. My veins are tired of being pregnant. My ribs are tired of being pregnant.

I went to a breastfeeding class on Saturday. I really didn’t learn much, save for a couple of tips regarding how much areola should be in my baby’s mouth. Fun stuff. You know, it is amazing that we have to take classes to learn how to do something that is supposed to be natural. My husband thinks it’s because our society shuts women away while they breastfeed. A long time ago, you would be breastfeeding with the other breastfeeding mothers. Now you are supposed to go hide in a restroom or in your house and cover up your guns with a blankie because god forbid anyone see a breast being used for it’s original intentions. That’s right people: the female breast: not just a secondary sexual trait; it also feeds babies.

So that’s the update. I’m a little tired today and looking forward to going home and lying down. Maybe I should have taken time off of work earlier.