Truthfully, I’ve been a bit lost as to what I want to write these days. I never wanted this to turn into a pregnancy blog and yet that’s now what it seems to be. At the same time, I wanted to document this pregnancy and feel like I haven’t done that as well as I wanted either. So, failure all around it is.
It’s hard to believe, but I’ll be 32 weeks on Friday. Realistically this means Cheeks will be here in 7 weeks or less, although I haven’t really broached the question of whether or not I’ll make it past 39 weeks. It’s starting to feel like my doctors don’t know the answer to that question either. Not to jinx it, but things seem to be going better than anyone on my brilliant medical team had expected.
I am huge. There is no missing the stomach anymore and I am constantly surprised by things like how far back from the sink I need to stand in order to wash my hands or the way shirts that fit comfortably over the belly a few weeks ago now reveal pregnant belly to the world if I don’t hike my pants way up. I can no longer clip my toenails or shave the lower half of my legs (even in light of the fact that I finally pulled out the shower chair this week). It’s a physics thing, I swear, not a lazy thing.
Cheeks is also huge. As I mentioned in the last post, he is weighing in at 4lbs 1oz. Two weeks ago he was 3lbs. By my calculations if he continues growing at this rate he will be something close to 8lbs if I make it to term which seems entirely too big to me. But I guess that’s up to him.
His movements hurt sometimes now, particularly if he’s punching my hoo-ha or kicking me in the ribs, but I still love each and every moment he makes his presence in there known. He hiccups a LOT, usually at least once a day but often three or more times, and they feel much stronger now that he’s bigger, I still worry every time I feel them but the ultrasound techs try to reassure me that if there were any cord issues his growth would be restricted or they would have picked it up in his heartrate during his PR intervals. I’m done with PR intervals now but luckily start weekly NST’s tomorrow so at least I will have weekly respites from complete and utter paranoia that something is wrong with the baby.
I try to remind myself that most of the literature out there says hiccuping is a good sign and means hopefully that his lungs will be nice and mature by the time he’s ready to breathe air.
But now that he’s turned head down (at least I hope he’s still that way!) my new thing to worry about is that he’ll be born with a nuchal hand. He always has his hands up by his head during his ultrasounds, I think that he must get that from me because I cannot help but constantly touch my face.
Symptom-wise, I mainly struggle with the backaches and insomnia. I think the insomnia is because I can’t find a comfortable position to sleep in though (see: huge). This morning I woke up and was partially afraid I was having back labor pains because I was getting sharp pains in my mid back everytime I moved. They went away though so I think I just slept wrong.
I’ve also been having pretty frequent nosebleeds and in the past two weeks or so (TMI ALERT!) tons and tons of discharge.
Something that was concerning at first was the feeling like I was constantly out of breath and unable to take a deep breath. This would sometimes make me feel dizzy and a little bit sick to my stomach. I brought it up with my OB and he said that it’s actually totally normal because I’m now expelling carbon dioxide for both myself and the baby which requires more breaths and because the baby (that little space hog) is taking up so much room my diaphragm is squished which means I can’t take deep breaths. It’s all one big catch-22 but sounds like it’s really no big deal. Just wanted to share in case anyone else has the same issue.
What else, what else. My skin has cleared up a lot, which YAY! I didn’t mind having terrible skin in exchange for a healthy baby but it’s nice to not be constantly breaking out anymore too.
Tiredness-wise it kind of feels like I’m back in the first tri. Meaning, I’m sort of constantly tired again. Where is all this energy I’m supposed to have in order to nest and all that? I don’t know. I apparently haven’t hit that part of the pregnancy yet and have reverted back to the sleep all the time part.
I’m eating decently well, no real cravings to speak of though unless you count french fries. But who doesn’t constantly crave french fries? I can’t eat very much at a time but I am hungry all the friggin’ time.
Emotionally I feel like I’m constantly on the verge of tears. Anything, and I mean anything, can make my eyes mist up these days.
I am madly in love with this little man growing inside of me. I can’t even find the words to express it. I daydream about him being here, growing up, I wonder what he’ll like, whether he’ll sing all the time like me (even if he can’t carry a tune) or if he’ll love Dragon Ball like his dad. I imagine watching him and Paul playing basketball in the park and how cute it’ll be when I teach him to make the touchdown hand signal (but only for the Niners and Bruins!). I am already in awe of the fact that I get to be his mama.
Of course that does not come without the crushing worry of wondering whether or not I am good enough to be that. But I’m going to stop here and get ready for bed and write about all the crippling fears another night.