Well, we finally made it. They tell me I won’t leave the hospital next week without having given birth. I’m choosing to believe them. Especially since “they” are those who have the power to help move things along. Clearly my body is the champion of creating enormous babies with no thought given to the exit strategy.
As I mentioned in an earlier post, I measured 42 weeks at my last appointment (3.5 weeks over my actual status). I feel every bit of those extra 3.5 weeks. My theory is that she’s been curled around in a C-shape with her head down, her butt on one side, and her feet wrapped around the top of my uterus for quite a while now and that at this last appointment she was actually straight up and down, giving a more accurate picture of the situation, but who knows.
I do know that my thirst level over the past week has increased to the Liam-pregnancy levels (maybe even more). As a result I’m drinking at least 10 x 32oz. bottles of water a day. Sometimes more. I’m waking up in the night too thirsty to continue sleeping. I have to pee ALL DAY LONG (the other night I went 4 times in the span of an hour, and none of those times were inconsequential). My feet have finally puffed up to match my hands and face. My lips feel like a collagen injection experiment gone horribly wrong.
I’m still waking up every 45 minutes to turn over and/or pee and the latest I’ve woken up this week has been 5am. It’s reached the point that I’m excited about going in to the hospital on Sunday night because there’s a chance I’ll be able to sleep in that bed in a way that I haven’t been able to do in my own bed (or recliners, or couches) in months. I’m pretty sure that that’s a little insane, but oh well. It is what it is.
I’m terrified about what will happen on Sunday and Monday (hopefully not Tuesday, but with me you never know), but I’m so excited to meet this baby girl, to be finished with the pregnant phase of my life, and to begin the epic process of reclaiming my body as my own.
This week’s pictures include bonus shots from my pregnancy with Liam (since on that timeline I had two more weeks to gestate).
Week 39 in my pregnancy with Liam (Again with the horizontal stripes. Really?):
My foot and Matt’s foot at 39 weeks. By comparison, my feet don’t look nearly this bad this time (even with the week of water retention). This was pretty impressive. I mean, I have cankles even at my goal weight, but this is more accurately classified as tree trunk than anything else:
Week 40 in my pregnancy with Liam (The first one is me showing off the fact that I had “dropped.” Other than that what I notice about these is that the same bag of trash — probably birthday wrapping related, we were exhausted, but not too exhausted to remove kitchen trash — is still sitting in the hall from the week before and that my hospital bag and pillow are sitting on the bench in an act of wishful thinking.):
(Matt’s not too happy about passing 40 weeks, either…)
Week 41 in my pregnancy with Liam (This was Christmas Day, 2007. Shortly after these pictures were taken I went to sleep on the couch while Matt attempted to get his first good night’s sleep in weeks in our bed. Two hours later, my water broke and the wild ride that was Liam’s birth began.):
Week 39 in this pregnancy with Baby Girl (You can’t really tell with this picture, but I finally crossed the line and my shirt no longer meets my pants.):
The End (for real this time).
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