Yep. I’m sure.
Last week I had 11 people ask me this. Most were strangers. They were serious. A few were friends. I think it was an attempt at commiseration.
At one point I was walking through the swimming pool dressing room fully clothed when I heard someone yell out to me from the other side of the room, “You’re about ready to pop, eh?” I turned around. When you look like me and someone yells something like that from 50 feet away behind your back, you know they’re talking to you.
“I bet you get sick of hearing that.”
“Yep. Especially since I’m not due for another 6 weeks.”
Indeed. Honey-child. Sistah-friend. GIRRRLLL. I am large and whale-like.
She told me I looked great, which I decided to believe because when someone is looking at you with pity and telling you how fabulous you look, they have to be telling the truth, right? Honestly. I feel cute when I’m pregnant. My body shapes itself in a way that announces our upcoming joy and sleepless nights and doesn’t leave anyone any room to wonder if I’m just packing away too many Peanut Butter Twix bars.
So it seems that the physical therapy and water exercise are paying off. I feel less like the lower half of my body is being snapped in pieces and more like a late-term pregnant woman, experiencing late-term pregnancy “discomfort.” It’s been a huge improvement.
In exciting news, it looks like this baby’s big like Fat Boy Magoo. At my last appointment she was measuring about 5 lbs by ultrasound and if she follows the trends and doubles in weight the last 6 weeks… OUCH! So the doctor plans to take her a week early! This thrills me. The last two times my due date just meant the date where I’d start asking for an induction and waiting with even more impatience.
Now I have a cut-off date in my head that makes the last minute antsyness and uncomfortability more bearable. We spent some time today looking at pictures of the other two when they were fresh and new and I can’t wait to meet little Wanda.
Hopefully we’ll find her a real name in the next month.