I'm getting to the point where most of my dresses are a little too snug for comfort. So except for a few dresses that have a lot of elastic, I generally prefer shorts and shirts. It's tricky, because I can still get my pre-pregnancy shorts on (thank you Lord for this blessing; I assume it's compensation for the ankle swelling and stabby rib pains), but the button side and the button hole side are always about 3 inches away from each other, with no hope of meeting, so I have to use my belly band (which Erin gave me, and it is the single most useful pregnancy item I could imagine) to hold them up, and stuff all the extra material as flat as I can get it under the band. It's a little bulky, and every time I have to go to the bathroom I dread having to get dressed all over again, but my shirts mostly cover the unsightly part, and it's nice to be able to wear shorts, cause I'm not fond of the way my legs stick together in skirts and dresses.
My belly picture photographer left me in the lurch last weekend when he moved to Arkansas, so I'll need my parents to fill in for the remainder of the pregnancy, which is 42 more days. Forty. Two. DAYS. You know how sometimes your computer freezes for a few seconds and then does several commands rapid-fire to catch back up? That's how I feel when I think about how little time is left. Wha--- OMG42daysbutIdon'tknowhowtohaveababyletaloneholdoneandchangeherdiaperandgethertoeatandsleepwhatdoidowhenshecries.
On the whole, I'm not too stressed about the baby. There's tons of stuff I don't know, but I think that's probably always the case, and I'll just do my best and figure it out as we go. What I'm anxious about is that Mike won't be here with me for the first few weeks. He has to be in Arkansas to teach, and I'm having the baby here so that we can keep my insurance and the midwives I've been seeing all along, and so I can have help from our moms and families. They're experts, so it's not that I'm scared about doing it all ALONE, I just want Mike to be here too and not to miss out on stuff. I know there are tons of families who'd gladly trade for circumstances like ours, and all we can do is make the best of it until the baby and I can move out to Arkansas. I just wish things always went precisely like I wanted. Is that so wrong?
This weekend Mike's mom's friends threw me a baby shower, and it was fabulous. The food was great and we got TONS of stuff, and these ladies did the most awesome thing. While I was opening presents, one of them wrote down what the gift was and who it was from, and stuck it in a thank you note that they had ALREADY ADDRESSED FOR ME, so all I have to do is pull out the card, read the post-it to remember what that person gave me, and write the thank you note. I am the worst about thank you notes. Over half of my wedding ones are sitting at my house, thanking my friends and family from inside a cardboard box for the beautiful trifle dish. I always tell people NOT to write me a thank you note, because I know the trouble I have with them, and I have no interest in inflicting that on anybody. I am a very polite and thankful person, and I make a point to convey my extreme gratitude to people in person when receiving a gift, but thank you notes are just not my bag. I will do them for this child, though, so people don't think her rude. But she is gonna owe me. And with all the awesome stuff people are getting us, writing a note and buying stamps is the very least I can do. My aunt Julie even found us a Star Wars baby book. You can guess which parent will choose that one every night. And Mike's mom (GiGi to the baby) has already made the baby two quilts and she's not even HERE yet, so by the time she's mobile we should have her whole room padded a couple layers deep. My dad (Chief to the baby; he's a fireman) was not too far off when he said this child isn't going to need to buy anything for herself until she's forty. That's a lot of years to perfect her thank you notes.
She's been kicking and shifting and hiccuping like a banshee lately, and I fear that she's looking for more room to grow in there, when really, isn't 4 pounds more than enough for anyone to have to expel from their body? My belly button is stretching a little more every day (for some reason it really skeeves me out), so it can't be long now until it pops out. At my last appointment, the midwife told me that the baby is head down (woohoo!), so I suspect that the part of her that periodically presses against the middle of my stomach and makes a funny little protrusion is her rump. I also think she tends to stay to one side (my left), but still somehow she's taking up all my stomach's room, so I have to cut waaaay back on my portions at mealtimes, excpet usually I don't, and boy am I sorry twenty minutes later. And usually by the end of the day, I can't see my ankles anymore, and I have to get up 3 times every night to pee. Also I could fall asleep at any given moment throughout the day, and often do nod off at my desk. But that's it for pregnancy issues. So far she's been a very easy baby. And I can already tell she accepts ice cream in lieu of thank you notes.