I'll be full-term on Saturday. Full-term: meaning, I should have this baby soon. And Lordy, Lordy do I feel like it.
At my last doc's appointment, I had my underwear on inside out. Could I tell? No. I can't see my underwear once it leaves the drawer and gets past my ankles. When I look down, I see my protruding navel. No, really. At this point, my once-inny bellybutton is not only flat, but poking OUT. This child has hardly any room left. I also had my tank top on inside out. I had to laugh so I didn't cry at my complete loss of control at this point.
My thought life is as unpredictable as my wardrobe malfunctions. At any given time, I can find myself thinking these things:
-I have to pee. No. That's the baby's head in between my legs. No, yes...I need to pee. Maybe I don't. Yes I do.
-I would like some cantaloupe with a slice of sharp cheddar cheese on it.
-I don't care how badly it hurts or how many stitches I need afterward, I gotta get this baby out and I gotta get it out asap.
-Oh my gosh, these clothes are so small! (Followed, usually, by tears).
-I am so huge and disgusting and huge. (Followed, usually, by a Google search about how much weight I'll lose immediately having a baby...Followed, usually, by an overwhelming feeling of guilt that I care about such a thing when I've been given such a blessed gift.)
-I can't believe this is happening to me. I am so blessed. Am I going to be an OK mom? What if I'm only mediocre? Should I make my own baby food? Is his mattress firm enough? I wonder just HOW cone-shaped his head will be?
-Thank you, Jesus, for this gift. Thank you, thank you, thank you.
-I would like to eat a soggy piece of pizza.
-I just love N. so much. He's going to be such a good dad. He's so nice to me. Why is he so nice?
There you have it, people. The overwhelmingly unpredictable hormonal thoughts of a woman in her 9th month of pregnancy in June.
Let's do this.