Week 38

A television show--no matter how tantalizing the plot--can turn a brain to mush if not rationed properly. 

~Confucius 

But really, my sister and my mother encouraged me to watch ABC's Revenge series on Netflix, and I have been unable to think of doing much else, sometimes watching three episodes in a row once I wake up before realizing I need to drink something, brush my teeth, look in a mirror. My excuse is that I won't be able to do this once the baby comes. Also, I go through periods of lethargy followed by bursts of energy, so my lethargy is spent either sleeping or Revenging. But Wednesday, I grounded myself from the television and resolved to go to the library (to whom I now owe $35) and face my fear of being verbally lashed by one snooty librarian for not paying my fee. (That story, I will refrain from recounting). I needed to READ. I checked out one Heaven is for Real and two chick lot novels. They are my guilty pleasure. I figure since the last book I read was Great Expectations, I deserve some brain junk. I proceeded to read every last bit of Heaven is for Real in one day, two sittings. It is being made into a movie, which means I have to read it. Because that is my rule. If I see a movie, then find out it was a book, I feel like I have cheated literature. Wow, is this blog about my pregnancy? No, it's about me hanging on to and enjoying my last shreds of being a stay-at-home baby-maker with no real plans. Let's get on to the pregnancy stuff. 

On Tuesday I had my 38-week check. I waited (forever). It doesn't matter how long I actually waited because I have NEVER had to wait at my OB. Once, I was 20 minutes early to an appointment, and ended up leaving the office at the exact time that my appointment was supposed to begin. That's how fast this place usually is. But not on the 17th day of December. No. Every lady wanted to get their lady check in before the holiday. It sucked. My doctor concluded that I lost weight this week, and am now 1 cm dilated. He was also very impressed with my lack of swelling when he squeezed my ankle. My favorite part was the weight loss--not because I'm a psycho who thinks losing weight is good for my baby--I just haven't had a huge appetite lately. It excited me because he followed with, "you can eat lots at Christmas to make up for it." And, reader, he might as well have written me a prescription for unlimited refills of 350 mg of chow. I took his direct order directly to the old feed bag. Just kidding. My appetite isn't much. Today I ate a banana for breakfast and a piece of frozen pizza for lunch. Then We went to Texan's work Christmas party where I had a healthy serving of brisket (the best brisket) potato salad (which I have NEVER liked until pregnancy) and baked beans. I really enjoyed the party (and by party, I mean food). But seriously, it was nice to chat with Texan's boss' wife. She had 5 natural births, one of them at a hospital, four at home and one of them as a water-birth. So she filled me in on all the highs and lows. She was SUPER encouraging of my desire to forego the epidural. I told her it's just an idea, and my anxieties are building up about it. But she was very adamant that my body would tell me what I needed and I should trust it. 

We had a Chinese Christmas gift swap and here is what I won ( or rather, what Texan stole on my behalf).

It's a pink tool box that I said I would like for my sewing supplies. Yes, he got a HUGE laugh from all of his employees forchoosing  it. But it's what his lady wanted, so he got it. It's perfect! I used my turn to steal a box of assorted chocolates for him and we left with full bellies and a couple neat gifts. 

My favorite part about being 38 weeks along is how much Texan is enjoying me. That sounds so weird. But he loves my belly, and while he was taking my picture this week he said, "You look pretty. You look really pretty." Pretty sweet. I'm glad I haven't lost my touch. (Lick finger, place it on hip, hear sizzle). But seriously, it annoyed me at first when he referred to me as 'Momma' in his best Johnny Bravo voice. (To be funny). But it's become an endearing term of affection that he uses when he is loving me in that tender way that a husband loves the mother of his baby. 

My least favorite thing about this week? Skip ahead if you don't want a dose of TMI. I am so sore after my appointment. I am presently perched upon a gel ice pack that smells a bit like freezer burn and my dogs keep trying to lick it. But it is my only relief from the feeling that I took a horse-back ride with no saddle on a skeleton horse with a massive case of scoliosis. 

Here I am in all my round glory. Next time I will post another Q&A. My last, to sum up my final week of pregnancy. That is what I am declaring it, so be warned, baby. Your days of swimming in the Amniotic Sea are numbered. Mommy wants to see you in your footy pajamas