39 Weeks and Counting (Down)

Well, we've made it through another week of pregnancy. And I'm so big I do not know how I'm ever going to make it another week. Or more. We're running out of things to do, and patience is not one of my best character traits. Jeremy has been keeping himself entertained with a new camera. You can tell from the photo below that I am less than thrilled with his new "hobby."

I've been told that I should write down how I'm feeling this week, because once baby arrives, I'm going to totally forget what it was like to be pregnant. I'm not sure how I feel about this advice, though. It would make a lot of sense to me if by design, nature intends for mothers (and fathers!) to forget just how miserable the end of pregnancy really is. I'm confident that I'm going to be very excited and happy to meet my little boy or girl.  I'm much less confident that if I elaborately document how I'm feeling right now, I will ever want to be pregnant again. So I'll try to mix it up and detail the good, the bad, and the ugly of my past 39 weeks of pregnancy.

• I had minimal amounts of morning sickness in the early weeks. I think I only puked two times. Once while cooking kale, which I will never cook again, for fear of getting sick.
• I slept all the time and very well during Trimester #1. And since I often fell asleep at 7PM on the couch, it was incredibly easy to ween myself from my pre-pregnancy wine habit.
• I kept up my running routine until I was 24 weeks pregnant. Not bad at all! 
• I swam until I was about 35 weeks pregnant. I even clocked one of my fastest swimming miles of all time while pregnant. Bad ass!
• I walk all the time. According to my stats on Adidas miCoach, I've been averaging 50 miles a month of walking. It stings my ego knowing that at one point in my life, I ran 50 miles a week. But whatever. I wasn't carrying a bowling ball in my torso.
• I've only gained 20 pounds despite eating more pints of Hagen Dazs than I will ever disclose.

But let's be honest...

• I haven't slept since Trimester #1. Although last night, I only woke up to go to the bathroom on four different occasions, which I consider a good night.
• My back really effing hurts. Nothing makes it better. Nothing.
• And my boobs, which are already obnoxiously large, are unnecessarily larger. Even the most matronly shirts have become an NC-17 cleavage show. 
• At 39 weeks, my feet have started to swell, and I believe my left ankle has morphed into a cankle. Officially. 
• Speaking of feet, mine are always hot.
• Actually, speaking of hot, my entire body is always hot. And it doesn't help that we've had the most unusual late summer here in LA this year. Nor does it help that here in Santa Monica, where it is normally moderate and breezy, we don't have air conditioning.  
• Sure my feet and body are hot, but my esophagus is on fire. I have wicked heart burn. I hope this kid arrives before I run out of my Maximum Strength Tums. 
• At 39 weeks, I still don't have an outie belly button. I kind of wanted an outie. I hear they hurt, but I've never had one. So I file this under "Disappointment."
• Speaking of disappointment, why hasn't this child been born yet? I'm not mad. I'm just disappointed.
• At 39 weeks, I have a hard time tying my own sneakers. 
• Hell, at 39 weeks, I have a hard time fitting into my maternity pants. Everything seems to cut off the circulation to my lower extremities. 
• And probably the most frustrating of all, at 39 weeks, I cry every other day. Give or take, and often for no reason.

So, cheers to the fact that I *should* only be pregnant for another week. Three at most.