I’m at the 36 week mark, and already I am crying, “Uncle!” Too bad the doctors don’t agree with me, so I am going to half to stick it out until G-Day. Log has even encouraged me to go the distance, which is funny because I am not in charge of this growing a human thing anymore. Nope, the show is now entirely dictated by the human larvae that is happily taking up residence where my other internal organs were quite comfortable. My belly looks like a swallowed a watermelon whole, but the sonogram today only reveals that she is around 5.5 lbs. Some days, I can’t even dress myself. I trust that Log puts on matching socks (which he does), but most days, I don’t even care if they do match.
Last night, I had to go into the hospital to get checked out because my blood pressure was elevated. My coworkers have been pretty diligent about monitoring it at work. So, assless gown, fetal monitor, and one straight cath later, the docs decide my coworkers don’t know how to take a blood pressure, which has typical of doctors. Get a reading you don’t like? Blame the machine operator. Whatever. Anyone can have a low blood pressure reading while laying on their side. My “issues” were not enough to make Little G come early, nor was it enough for them to decide I should cut out from work early. So, business as usual starting tomorrow when the alarm clock goes off at 6am.
Weekly ultrasounds continue. Log usually can’t go due to work, which is fine. He made it to one last week, though. Instead of the much more interesting one where they take all of the baby’s measurements, including weight, Log gets to be present for the mandatory butt-swabbing (mine) to see if I am carrying some sort of Group B strep (I’m not).
On a happier note, Log has painted the nursery in lovely pink and gray. We’re redoing the flooring before we add the decorative touches, not to mention furniture, to the room. Walking by the room, I pause and look inside. It still seems surreal to me that in less than a month, I’m going to be someone’s mom. I’m told by newly minted parents that this shock will amplify once we get her home, and last for about a month or so until we decide we have somewhat of handle on this parenting thing.
We’re pretty excited. And scared shitless at the same time.