Musing at 34 weeks, 3 days pregnant

I feel like a large, useless blob.

I know, I know. I’m not “useless”. I’m growing a human. I KNOW.

As a self-proclaimed mega fan of being lazy, I really suck at it when it’s thrust upon me. Under normal circumstances, I will gladly and enthusiastically take a day to sit on my butt with a cup of tea and a book and a nap. However at this sage in my pregnancy I want to do all the things and I can’t.

For me, pregnancy brings a whole bag of emotions the largest and most pronounced being guilt.

The thoughts come fast and in no particular order. It usually starts because I am sitting on the couch looking around at all the things I want done: dusting, vacuuming, walls washed, lamp shades cleaned, leather furniture cleaned, floors scrubbed…is that a fruit loop? When did we last have fruit loops in this house? Aw geez.

I can’t do much.

For one, I have something wrong with one of my knees. They can’t really do anything about it until after pregnancy, so we are just sort of babying it until then, half-hoping it’s just loose ligaments that will feel better after baby is born. But because of it, I am not just a waddling pregnant lady, I am sort of a limping one too. I’ve been told to give up stairs as much as possible.

That combined with the largeness of my belly (I’m measuring 2 weeks ahead), makes sitting on the floor an impossibility as well.  Ok, getting UP from the floor is the impossible part. Also not Ok anymore is being on my hands and knees to help look for a small toy or to scrub floors the way I want them scrubbed.

Saturday while Cortney was out getting groceries, I thought I would show him some appreciation for all the work he has put in to make our house run smoothly while I am entering the “Useless” phase of pregnancy by baking him the chocolate chip cookies he’s been craving. I figured cleaning up some of the kitchen while at it was no big deal. Then I got it in my head that picking up my 31-pound almost 3-year old and dancing around the kitchen to the Beatles was Ok.

It was so not Ok that I got crampy and awful feeling for the rest of the day.

I spend a lot of time saying “I can’t, I’m sorry boys.”

I see the stuff I want to clean and scrub–partly because I am feeling all nesting-ish, but because normally I would do those things on the weekends. And even though he says to do it, I don’t want to add those things to Cortney’s already long To Do list.

I feel guilty not doing “my share” even though logically I know that by growing a baby, I am doing “my share” right now.

And then I start to hate pregnancy.

So there’s more guilt there. As far as nature is concerned, my children should not be possible. I needed medical intervention to keep them alive in my belly AND to keep them (and me) alive through the birthing process. The fact that we have two healthy boys and a little girl on the way is nothing short of a miracle.

How can I hate that? Why can’t I just sit back, enjoy it, and glow like I should?

So I am a ball of emotions. Those emotions make me cry. I’m ready to be done being pregnant…which also makes me feel guilt, by the way.

I want to clean my house and have a baby.

But of course it’s not ever that simple.

you are now entering…the THIRD TRIMESTER

While it seems like I’ve been pregnant forEVER, officially it’s been 28 weeks.

That’s right.  The third trimester is starting, people.

In the past four weeks I have found out that my placenta has moved nicely with my uterus growth (YAY!), my glucose test came back negative (YAY!), and Charlie is already gaining ahead of schedule and is around 3lbs (O_O).

So let’s compare my pregnancy this time with that of last time, shall we?

Pregnant with Eddie around 28 Weeks


28 weeks with Charlie. No make up. No hair done. Just me and mah belly.

Other than liking my hair better then than now, and weighing less then than now, physically I think things are pretty close to the same.

Eddie was a mover and a shaker, but had NOTHING on the stylings of Mr. Charlie in there.  Some days I think he is in there moving furniture…er…organs around.

I also had annoying reflux with Eddie, but it was nothing Tums couldn’t solve…albeit a LOT of Tums.  Charlie likes to give me reflux that makes me throw up.  Awesome.  Tums actually makes it worse because this time around I can’t stand the taste (probably because I had to eat so many with Eddie).  So I have been eating lots of apples and ice cream. It works, trust me.

My rough calculations say that I have gained about 9 pounds with this pregnancy so far, which is about the same as with Eddie.

This pregnancy has been rougher than Eddie’s though.

I think it’s because when I got pregnant with Eddie I was eating pretty good and exercising regularly.  In fact, I had been losing a lot of excess weight when I got pregnant.  Plus I continued with the good eating and exercise all the way up to the 9th month when the BH contractions just wouldn’t let me walk, let alone jog.

This time I was not in any way doing any exercise when I got pregnant and was carrying extra week after a couple years of depression and antidepressants and birth control issues and just not working out.  Then my placenta was low and I had to refrain from any extra activity. I’ve been doing well on my eating, but I feel like a lump of blah.

Plus last time I wasn’t chasing a two and a half year old, so there’s that.

And of course I HAD to open my big yap and brag about how I never got sick when I was pregnant with Eddie.  And now I am on my second terrible cold of this pregnancy.

But really it could all be worse.

I think my favorite part of this pregnancy is how much Eddie talks about Baby Char-wee.

He loves to point out “mommy’s big tummy have baby Char-wee in it.”

We talk about his new big boy room (especially now that our family so very generously bought all his furniture for it) and how Charlie will get his old room.

He tells me how he is going to share his toys and read books to Charlie.

He pats my tummy and says, “how is Char-wee?”

It’s hard for me to believe I only have about 9 more weeks of work and 10 more weeks until baby.

Am I prepared?

No.  I don’t think you can ever be totally ready.

Am I excited?

Yes.  So very much so.

Prepared or not, I am ready.  I am ready to meet this new little guy.