Week 41 (sigh)

Guess what everyone?
I've got news.
You'll never guess in a million years.
I'm pregnant!

Well...technically it isn't news except that it is a bit surprising that I'm still pregnant. Still. Somehow that word echoes when I type it like I just yelled it into the Grand Canyon: STILLstillstillstillstillstillstillstillstillstill.

My stupid smug websites are trying to tell me I'm probably not actually late but that many women are just given the wrong due date. I hate to say it (well no, actually I don't hate it. I love it because I love being right...) but NOPE. That doesn't apply here. I can say with 100 percent certainty that Bug is late and I'm STILLstillstillstillstillstillstillstillstillstill pregnant.

The "good" news? I found out today I'm having a couple of contractions per hour. Hopefully that means we'll be in the hospital any time now...before I'm induced on Thursday.

Today is Bug's Due Date...

This is a picture of a Gary Larson Far Side cartoon with the caption: "The Bluebird of Happiness long absent from his life, Ned is visited by the Chicken of Depression."

I realized today that poor Ned looks like an overly pregnant woman struggling to get out of bed.

What, you ask, did we have for supper tonight? Chicken. Seemed appropriate somehow.

Day 4719 AKA week 39 plus 5 days

So...for all you people who are calling and texting on a daily basis here is a hint: THE BABY HAS NOT YET COME AND NO, YOU COULDN'T POSSIBLY BE MORE SORRY ABOUT THAT THAN I AM RIGHT NOW.

I hurt in places and ways I never thought possible (think pelvis meets baseball bat in high speed collision + lower spine twisted into a pretzel with a sprinkle of headache and you get the idea).

I sleep once in a blue moon and I've seen more infomercials than I care to count as a result.

I've discovered the joys of Zantac and the impossibility of eating properly when your stomach is being compressed by a baby the size of Godzilla.

Quite frankly, I don't give a shit what Baby Center has to say about week 39 but if for some reason you do, here's the link. Apparently, they want me to take comfort in the fact that only 25% of women deliver on or before this week. Not really comforting. The 3d website is ok but again, it is trying to reassure me that it isn't at all abnormal for women to carry their babies longer than their EDD.

Quite frankly, my dear, I don't give a damn.

Would Someone Take this %^#&ing Cork Back?

I'm ready.

I'm soooo ready.

I've been ready now for quite awhile and no, by that I DON'T mean I've got my nursery all pristinely painted and staged like a magazine shoot - I mean I'm ready to scream at the top of my lungs at every passerby, "I'M READY FOR THIS CHILD TO BE BORN. DO SOMETHING DAMMIT!"

Scott and I are still in the middle of organizing our nursery but there's nothing that can't wait until after the baby makes her first appearance and to be quite honest, I'm more than happy to do all that crap later...more than happy - YOU HEAR THAT KIDDO? WE ARE MORE THAN HAPPY SO GET YOUR BUTT IN GEAR ALREADY! I think poor Scott is almost as anxious as I am for this to be over because he's so worried about how I'm doing that he can't get any sleep. When I roll over, he wakes up. When I wheeze, sneeze, snort, or snore he wakes up. When I take 10 minutes to lever myself out of bed each of the 16 times a night I get up to go pee he wakes up. No matter how careful I am or how quiet I am, anything I do besides sleeping quietly wakes him up.

Both of us are supposed to be enjoying our last peaceful nights of sleep for the next few years right now but instead we both seem to be doomed to stare at the ceiling formulating grocery lists in the dark. Well...to be honest I sometimes formulate grocery lists and the rest of the time I think about shoes and what movies are in the theatres or new on Bluray. What a wild child I am these days, hey?

38 Weeks

I'm beginning to wonder in all seriousness if it is possible for a baby to burst out of her mother's stomach a la Alien 'cause the way my belly feels right now, I swear that's going to happen any friggin' second. My kid feels huge and I'm 99% sure my skin can't possibly stretch any more without exploding.

I love you Bug but what the hell? Mommy kinda needs her stomach for later and you're not exactly helping things here.

Needless to say, at 38 weeks I'm hoping that my child is born soon. Soon soon. I mean like 5 minutes ago soon, not next week soon. Of course, my impatience is mostly due to my desire to meet my child, but it is also rooted in the fact that I'm having serious problems doing things like sleeping, eating, breathing...you know...life's little luxuries.

The 3D pic and blurb spends much of this week cataloguing the various forms of grossness I have to look forward to over the next few weeks: mucus plug, bloody show, meconium, diaper blowouts and projectile vomit. Read this blurb at your own peril although as a consolation the picture is rather cute.

The Baby Center website seems to be labouring under the false impression that girls weigh less than boys in the womb. Pfft. It is obvious my child and my mother's gaggle of overly large infant girls weren't used to generate that ridonculously misleading generalization. Anyway, they have very little substantive to say this week but that isn't really surprising...Bug is now fully cooked and we're just waiting for her to realize it.

Wait! Did you hear that? It was the kitchen timer screaming "DING" hoping against all hope that it was loud enough that my child heard it. Yes Bug, that noise means you can come out now. Now now, not next week now.

Dear God child, realize it already. Momma can't take too much more of this.

Sleepless in Vancouver

It is 3:56 AM and I'm awake.

It is 3:56 AM and I'm awake.

Oops. Now it is 3:57 AM and I'm STILL awake.

Someone kill me now.

The lesson: Don't eat an overly large plate of spicy Indian food when you're 9 1/2 months preggers. It doesn't end well, trust me...I'm so tired I'm seeing double but the nausea and heartburn are making it impossible to lay down, let alone sleep.

Have I mentioned how tired I am? whiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiine.

37 Weeks: Seriously, Are We There Yet?

Hey everyone. I'm late this week. No, Bug's not late, I'M late - late making this posting and you know what? I have no excuse. None, zip, squat, and nada. Quite frankly, I've just been enjoying my first couple of days of mat leave so much that I just forgot. I've had one verybusydayrunningaroundtryingtogetshitdone and one day of doing...almost...nothing...and...lovin'...every...minute...of...it. Ahhhh heaven.

The Baby Center update is here and it talks about something I'm sooo not looking forward to: meconium - aka: baby's first poo (BFP). According to my secret, highly qualified sources, meconium is like tar...or gum...or that crappy glue they use to seal plastic together that inevitably balls up stickily all over your clothes. Yeah, so I'm fully expecting to have one helluva visceral reaction to that...imagine it: poo you need a spatula and nail polish remover to clean up. You know, there just isn't a facial expression on Google images that does my feelings on that subject justice. Gah!

The 3D pic and info can be found by clicking on this link. Happily, although there is a reminder to pick up diapers, there isn't one reference to BFP or any of its attendant grossness. Hey, if you're looking for something rather trippy to do, just take a look at the 3d pic for this week and then click on the 7 week one on their 40 week calendar. Hard to believe that my "little" Bug (and I'm using that term to indicate she's smaller than a Mac Truck) was once a little Shamoo weighing less than a gram. Kind of boggles the mind (for me at least) since she's now able to push my insides around like nobody's business. I seriously think she's got a grudge against my hip joints and the right side of my rib cage. What they ever did to her will probably remain a mystery for the ages but I have my suspicions....