I think y’all would like to know that I am a mere 15 days from being delivered of the watermelon that currently resides somewhere in the region above/between my pelvic bones. The very cute — I’m sure — watermelon that will wake me up several times each night for a few weeks. People are always telling me to enjoy the time I have now and the nights that I can still sleep through.
I have this to say to you: Have you ever tried sleeping with an elephant laying on your internal organs?! That’s what I thought. Amen.
I do not sleep more than 2 hours at a time at night. I have to pee constantly. I cannot walk across a room without pain shooting through my hips and/or back, stomach muscles, any other body part, etc. If I am waking up several times each night, I would like to know something is resulting from it besides my crankiness and shortness of temper. Like a parasite, I mean baby, gaining a pound or 2, and my losing a pound or 3…
I rant and rave. I really hate being pregnant. The truth is, however, that I like having babies. I may feel at times that I have earned the right to gripe and complain from time to time since I have managed to be pregnant for 27 out of the last 39 months. (Yes, that’s 69%…) I adore the 2 munchkins I have and the 1 I’m about to not be hosting. If I could go back and have it work out the way I planned: have Levi and maybe think about getting pregnant with #2 about now, I wouldn’t. I’m sort of in love with the ones I’ve got.
There are already people placing bets on when I’ll announce that #4 is on his/her way. Apparently, I am incapable of not being pregnant regardless of what I do to prevent said condition. I am not going to be surprised if it does indeed happen that way. I may lose the last vestiges of sanity on which I now maintain a tenuous hold, at best. My family may run screaming for lack of coping ability. Jim will wish he moved the futon out to the shed long ago. I may move it out there now for his sake…
Really. Look at that nose. And the chubby cheek. And the little chin. And the little girly lips.
Maybe I’ll call it quits and adopt a Haitian baby. Who may or may not be able to block my powers.
Again. Whatever. I am excited about giving birth to this kid. I get all the drugs they’ll give me and I actually get to enjoy the experience that way. I scheduled the induction because I don’t like not knowing. Just kidding. It’s really because if I didn’t, I’d still have Levi and Emberleigh in there, too. Little buggers get too comfy and won’t come out. I told my OB that since they overbake anyway, I should set the oven timer to kick the door open when the buzzer goes off. In less obnoxious words…
Everything is unpacked from last month, I mean year, when Emberleigh used it last. I have nothing to do but wait. And do laundry, and dishes, and bathe my other children, and change diapers, and make meals, and sweep the floor, and… oh, right. I guess this 2 weeks should fly by.
That reminds me… 3 in diapers! Y’all need to send up some serious prayer on my behalf. Though I do think that keeping Levi in diapers a tad longer is worth it for the sake of my sanity and the safety of those around me.
Changing diapers v. cleaning up puddles?
Diapers, most def!!!