So I finally made it to the critical 34-week mark. Critical? Yes. Apparently by now, if the baby decides to make its way out, it would actually survive with minimal to no complications. The trick now, is for me to survive the next 6-ish weeks.
The thought that distracts me during my waking hours is this: I will continue to get bigger over the next six weeks. Trust me, I am big enough. My sciatic nerve is already on my nerves. My body can barely roll over in bed as it is. My stomach protests over the smallest of meals (seeing how it is squished like a pancake I'm not surprised - oh, pancakes, those sound good). The heartburn is guaranteeing me a permanent Stevie Nicks vocal quality. We can barely afford the water bill from my multiple bathroom trips an hour. Throbbing feet, leg cramps, lower back pain, inability to thoroughly shave my legs, shortness of breath just from getting into my car... none of these will be helped by the additional 6 - 10 pounds that have been predicted for my immediate future. (I just know there is NO WAY I'll be one of those lucky women that loses weight her last month of pregnancy!)
And for all my complaining, I am constantly amazed at how nature works. 30 weeks ago, I was not prepared to handle having my waist size double (practically), my weight triple (at least that's what it feels like) and the prospect of actually pushing a melon through a comparatively small hole. Now... the changes were gradual enough that my enormous belly looks pretty normal to me, and I'm looking forward to having the baby so that the aches and pains of carrying this bundle of joy will finally go away. I'm NOT actually looking forward to labor, but I'm starting to understand how I will reach a point mentally (physically I think I'm already there) where I might prefer the baby come on out! Tricky Tricky nature is.
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