Boy, nine months really creeps up on you; for me that is marked by Saturday (36 weeks). Ive been so lucky as to avoid the pregnancy pains -- no swollen feet, very occasional muscle cramps, not waking up at night to pee, heartburn that is solved with one big Tums. But there is no getting around that fact that by nine months, you feel like someone strapped a watermelon to your middle as if you entered some silly summertime relay race. Sitting, breathing, walking, has become somewhat challenging, and you can just forget about anything that requires me to bend over; anything on the floor will just stay there, rot, or get eaten by one of our willing animals.
Even the baby is uncomfortable. He has been fussing for days now; rolling around best he can, punching the walls to try and make them expand, looking for a comfortable position unsuccessfully. Hes feeling claustrophobic and so am I. On the one hand, I am SO ready to just git er done here. Pop out the baby and move on. But on the other, there is SO much to do before he comes -- schoolwork, house repairs, dog training -- that will become infinitely more difficult when he arrives. I think its the final limbo which makes the last lap so mentally hard. In the end, he comes when he comes, and we just keep plugging away at the to-do list until then.
