T-28

Today we are full term! This is it, the end goal, the last chapter, the goal line. In less than a month (God willing) there will be a new person in our family bringing us to three. It's all way too much for me to handle.

Ever since we found out when Peanut was due my gut told me that he would not be a March baby. I don't know why but I just never believed that he would be. Now of course I could be setting myself up for being two weeks over due then induced. In fact knowing how I operate I probably am. So in reality I could have another 30 ish days left. Of course I'll be totally insane at that point and Peanuts Daddy will probably be begging his son to please come out so mommy stops being a giant screaming crazy lady. Not that there aren't already days where he's not doing just that.

I have finally gotten to a point where I'm wanting to eat larger portions of food than I ever have before. I mean, I've been hungrier all this time but never before could I polish off a plate of nachos then a Chimmighanga at a Mexican restaurant and still want dessert. Poor Pman's Daddy because he's used to having all the left overs to plow through and I simply don't leave any anymore.

I have however, been trying to curb the instinct to mow through a giant bag of chips then a bag of chocolate. I'm eating breakfast. I've never eaten breakfast before I go to work. I get up too late. But I've found I can whip up Malt O Meal as I get my make up on then watch the news (snow, snow and more snow 'round here) before heading into work. This doesn't mean I'm not ready to rip apart my kitchen for food at lunch time but it will stave that instinct off for an extra hour or so.

The cats must know something is going on. Both of them must have me in their sights at all times. In fact one is poised waiting for my hand to come off the keyboard to manipulate the mouse. I think they think mommy's sick. Who really knows though. What I do know is that both of them are going to have a lot to adjust too in a few short weeks.

Things looking diffrent

Peanut's Daddy has been busy the last week or so. He's been clearing out the spare room/his storage space to get it ready for our son. Granted he's been doing it on his own time but the important thing is that it's getting done. The stack of baby items we already have is stacked against the wall in here now waiting for the arrival of other baby items to organize. The big comfy chair is in here waiting for cuddle time.

I'm grateful for wonderful people who are loaning us or giving us much needed baby items. The crib is going to be a gift from my parents, the stroller car seat combo is from friends who aren't having any more children. I also received a baby bath and bouncie seat from them too! Peanut's Daddy's cousin is loaning us her bassinet, one that was hand made by her father, and I'm really looking forward to seeing that. His Uncle is also stripping and refinishing his old nursery dresser to match the blue in all the bedding.

That reminds me I need to get the thank you card out for the boppy I got too.

All the new clothes we've already gotten are now washed and put away and I think today I will be washing some of the hand me down's too.

Still so many things to do and only a very short time now to do them. It's frustrating and exciting all at once. Complicating my plans, of course, are the Braxton Hick's contractions I've been getting more frequently so I can only do little chunks here and there. Oh and his new found enjoyment of punching me right in a nerve is a little irritating too.

Time is short

And so am I! HA!

So according to my doctor if after the next three weeks I go into labor she won't stop me. That's a really scary thought. That's a really short time frame to think about. I mean my shower is in three weeks. I can't do much until after that's done. The spare room isn't even cleaned out yet. I'm waiting Peanuts Daddy and Peanuts Godfather to get it cleared out. I also need to clean up the master bedroom a little too. But the thing is there is nothing ready for my son and hearing three weeks only made me panic. I'm so very, very good at that.

I also am starting to wonder how the cats will react to the new person in the house. I think I know how they'll react but who knows if I'm right. They both seem to think something is going on but not what.

Big day count down.

First I have to apologize to a good friend of mine. She's home visiting her family here in our home state and Peanut's Dad and I were supposed to go visit last night but I was feeling so badly I could hardly get up to get a glass of water. I was so upset because she has just had the most precious little boy and I was so looking forward to seeing her, her son and her husband again I was almost giddy. Fibro and pregnancy do not mix well. Less so when I can't take anything to pain other than Tylenol. So to her I say I'm so beyond sorry I missed time with you three.

Being 8 months along is a good and bad place to be. For starters I am nearing the end of a 9 (10) month ordeal. And yes I mean ordeal. When you think about what a women's body does to sustain and grow life it's beyond awe inspiring. Not to mention the things mom has to give up to help make her baby as healthy as she can and the things she endures. Smelling peanut butter and throwing up, swollen feet, heartburn, breathing problems. Jealous cats. It is an ordeal but one that is cheerfully welcome to most women.

This is a time when showers are given and attended, nursery's are set up, car seats are installed and tiny clothes are laundered gently then had mom's face buried into them to smell the impending baby. It's a time of anticipation and longing. And intense fear.

You see that's the bad thing about 8 (9) months pregnant. You are utterly aware that this human is going to come out of your hoo ha. Something you are sure cannot possibly happen except your friends, mother and doctor assure you that this is not only possible but going to happen.

What's worse is that you know that even after birth there isn't a reprieve. No then you become a parent. You are given charge of this tiny helpless stranger who screams a bit and sleeps a lot and has your husbands eyes. No doubt that is the great part too but anyone who's ready to be a parent should be scared spitless right about now.

You're last few weeks of non parenthood become Days on a calender. Saturday is our hospital tour day. I'm getting Peanut's Daddy there by telling him that there is food and prizes. He'll do just about anything for a half dry sandwich. I'm looking forward to being about other pregnant women in my shoes. Mostly so I can look in their eyes and see the same terror I know is in mine as the nurse tells us all about our impending event.

A shower is coming in soon and in the next two weekends one room will be cleared out and prepped for incoming baby items while another room needs to be re arranged to fit the stuff from the other room. A bag needs to be packed, a list of phone numbers put together. A list of things that are going to be ticked off while in the back of your mind you hear the bong of a clock as the minutes tick by.

The worst part is that there is no way you can totally prepare. This baby will come when he wants how he wants and there is nothing I can do to stop or change that. Everything can be totally done and I could stand in the middle of his waiting nursery bloated, swollen and huge balling my head off because he's not out yet. Or I could be yelling at his father to hurry up and put bracket D with slot G and my water could break. You cannot prepare to the minute for birth unless you had a date and time scheduled with your local maternity ward.

Knowing my husband I think this kid is going to come in the middle of a late snow storm. But don't quote me on that.

Guess game.

No he's not here yet!

I'm just very bad at updating. I wish I had some crazy adventure story to tell you about chasing jewel thieves through Kiev but I've been home. Sleeping or avoiding cleaning. I say avoiding cleaning because there is a pile of housework that needs to be done but I, frankly, don't feel like doing it. Oh sure the basics are done there isn't any moldy food or such in my house it's just not organized.

The cats have also been clingy. Marble has taken to crawling all over me whenever I sit down. Peabody has taken to following me everywhere and when he can't he shoves his face into his dry food bowl and eats so fast I fear that he'll blow up like the girl in Willy Wonka. What was her name? Violet I think. Or Veruica. Something V.

I'm pleased to announce that I've not succumbed to all the wonderful woes of pregnancy. I am not running hot. Now this might seem like a wonderful thing. But I live in the midwest. It's cold here. Very cold. I was looking forward to going "I'm comfortable! How 'bout you!?" for the first time in January in my life. I'm cold. I'm always cold. Like Mr. Peanut's Daddy won't let me touch him I'm cold. So right now I'm disappointed that I got gypped out of the one pregnancy symptom I wanted.

There is a baby shower set and soon the spare room will be cleared out so the orgy of baby preparation can begin. I'd like to say I can't wait but I can because that means I'll have to clean two rooms very well and frankly I've become lazy.

Well the heartburn is kicking in. Time for me to forage for food and get some precious sleep.

Melon with legs

I have morphed into a melon with legs. I went shopping for some groceries yesterday and as I walked through the store I wanted to sit down and take a nap right around the drinks section. I waddle and I push the pumpkin out before me like a cow catcher. It's rather amusing really. I was comparing some photos from 2 weeks ago to ones I took tonight and you can see how much larger I've grown. I'm starting to dread getting my weight done next month.

Christmas takes a lot more energy than one would think. That is until you have little energy to start with. I slept 12 hours once I had the chance and that still wasn't enough. I've lived with a chronic illness so I figured I already knew how to deal with the life of constant fatigue but man was I ever in for a surprise! This is so oddly different. Perhaps it's because I know at the end of the tunnel isn't more sleep. Just 2 am feedings. Then that doesn't bug me so much.

Speaking of fatigue I'm going to crawl into my bed with the new flannel sheets and crash and burn for a few days. Hope to see you all in the New Year!