I'm officially 38 weeks...as of tomorrow. I figure I will be too busy to post this tomorrow so I'll just whip it out tonight. I'd schedule it to post tomorrow like I used to before blogger changed, but I can't figure it out now. So when I went to my 36 week appointment, the doc told me I was 1 cm dilated and 80% effaced. She then said that she'd be surprised if I went much longer. Ha! I've heard that before, doc. Alex was 2 days late and Abby was just 4 days early and she said the same thing with both of them. Both of them had scheduled inductions (that never happened of course). Of course, it naturally sent me into a frenzy thinking I'd pop within the next few days and was worried I wouldn't make it to that lung-safe 37 weeks for the baby. Here I sit two-weeks later and still cookin' the turkey. I'm perfectly fine with that too. Oh sure, sure. My hip is shot, I had a dislocated rib (not ruling out a possible fracture according to the doc, but we can't take an xray) and I am fairly certain that I can only pee one teaspoon of urine at a time now. But it's all good. The longer this kid sticks inside, the better lungs he/she will have.
So other than the obvious discomforts that inevitably come with the last month of pregnancy, I'm good. I am, however, at that awkward stage of pregnancy where dropping the soap in the shower becomes a dangerous game of Russian roulette. Naturally I drop the dang thing every night. It's only a matter of time now before Josh hears me screaming as I ultimately plummet to my demise all for the sake of picking back up the blasted soap.
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38 weeks and counting. |
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