March 30, 2012 by Heather
Also known as one of the best and most painful weeks of pregnancy yet. We went on a short but sweet (and sunny!) babymoon to Gulf Shores and had a lovely time, even though we both turned into strips of bacon. Pork, not turkey.
Things felt this week:
Swollen feet: At first I was convinced it was from the sunburn. Then I thought it was from being in the car for a while. Then a few days passed and the sunburn slowly faded and my ankles were still quite plump. Hmm. At least now they are a tan plump. (And yes, I had my blood pressure checked and it is totally normal).
PULL OVER NOW OR I’M GOING TO RUIN THIS NEW CAR UPHOLSTERY: I spend most of my time urinating these days. It comes on fast and strong, let me tell you. I’ll run to the bathroom thinking it is going to be like the Nile coming out and it’s just a tiny trickle. How does that happen?
Emotional: I ugly cried into my beans and cornbread at Lambert’s while we were on our trip. I tried to hold it in, I really did. But it all came out, and when Andrew asked what was the matter I blubbered out something like, “This (sob) is our (sob sob) last (sob) trip we’ll ever take (sob) by ourselves (sob sob sob sob sob).” I’m sure it was confusing to those around us.
Like I want to wear false eyelashes: What? I didn’t say these were all going to be pregnancy related.
Overwhelmed: Oh Lordy where to begin. I think it is mostly about the actual act of giving birth. Believe it or not, I’m not overwhelmed by the thought of having a baby to take care of. It’s the getting him out of me that has me feeling stressed. When is it going to happen? What all should I take to the hospital? Who should be allowed in the room? Should I make a birthing playlist? Oh gosh what if I poop on the table? What if my vagina explodes? Will I even be able to have a vaginal delivery or will it be a C-section?
I’ve decided, after much thought, that a C-section scares me more than the other kind. I recently read that they strap your arms and legs down to the table in order to do the surgery. I cannot even handle that. CANNOT handle it. It keeps me up at night just thinking about it. The slicing into my abdomen, ok, that’s fine. But please don’t strap me down to a table. I will freak out so much that you’ll wish you’d never became a nurse.
I’ve also felt very sentimental about pregnancy this week. Andrew told me last night that he thinks I have really relished being pregnant, and he is right. It has been so incredibly special – one of the most special things I’ve experienced. Honestly, probably THE most special thing. Now I know what women mean when they say, “You can’t understand it until you’re going through it yourself.” It is truly amazing. I always thought I’d be super creeped out by having a human growing and moving around inside of me. It kind of reminded me of the little pickled and jarred animals in Mr. Reinhart’s biology classroom. Well. It’s totally not creepy, just so you know.
We have a doctor’s appointment this afternoon, where they will probably tell me I’ve gained four hundred and twenty seven pounds in the past two weeks.
And I won’t even care, because another weird thing that comes with pregnancy is how little you care about weight gain as long as the little person inside of you is a-ok.
….this post is dedicated in loving memory to Oliver Lendol Jackson, who went to be with Jesus on this day 9 years ago. Grandpa, I miss you so much. Thank you for the memories and for the best barbeque sauce I’ve ever tasted. I love you.…