How far along? 32 weeks, 1 day. In other words, EIGHT MONTHS!!!
Gender: Getting anxious to find out!
Total weight gain? After my Christmas binge, things are still holding steady. 12-13 lbs.
Cravings? Popcorn with shredded cheese. Citrus fruits. Vanilla ice cream. Caesar salads.
Movement? Baby was putting on a show in a meeting yesterday -- movement is now noticeable and visible from the outside. SO WEIRD.
Best moment this week: Putting together the gorgeous crib and fluffing it up with pretty bedding.
Worst: When I'm free to be lazy, I feel great. When I'm really busy and running all over the place, I feel exhausted! This week, it's the latter. Very excited for a three-day weekend.
So. 32 weeks. Fancy seeing you here.
I think honesty is the best policy (except when I accidentally start embellishing stories, as my family can attest to). But yep, usually I try to be on the level. And so, what follows is a sad-sack pity party post. What can I say? Hormones, and the sheer length of time one is pregnant, and so on...
This has been an easy-peasy pregnancy so far, but I am SO READY for it to be over. I don't hate being pregnant, but I don't love it either. It's an uncomfortable means to a pretty fantastic end, you know? I'm tired of not looking like myself. I'm tired of feeling self-conscious, of bumping into things, of hearing how much bigger I'll get (can we just ban the word "big" from the vocabulary associated with any woman, ever?) I'm tired of being tired (I know I have another thing coming with a newborn, but at least that's a different sort of fatigue).
I do think pregnancy can be cute and beautiful, but once you reach a certain point, you stop feeling that way and just start feeling blah. Yes, your body is doing an incredible thing, but maybe you're starting to feel like your entire life revolves around your body, and not in a good way. In the way like your stomach is a ginormous sun, and the rest of your life is composed of tiny little planets in meaningless orbit.
(Also, when did so many thin women suddenly start roaming the streets of Pittsburgh? I kind of hate them right now).
In two months, I won't have time to dwell on these super vain and shallow thoughts. There are worse things than "getting fat," especially when it isn't fat, just pregnant. I'm not planning on crash-dieting or anything ridiculous right after delivery, although I admittedly find myself hoping that the weight just magically falls off and I'm one of those women who can wear their regular clothes again right away. Please oh please oh please.
Of course my only priority is that Baby is healthy. But I'm emotionally ready to go into labor right this very second. And on the other side, an endless parade of spinach salads, citrus fruit, and lean protein is calling my name.
Well, that and a very large, extra frosty margarita ;)