Week 39

Have you vet heard of a phantom pregnancy? It's a funny excuse for why husbands experience weight-gain and aches/pains along with their wifey-poo. My husband hasn't been possessed by the pregnancy phantom, but on Sunday night, he was possessed by the nesting bug and began CLEANING. Let's say, after being gone to my parents' for 5 days, the laundry was a little backed up. And I did use Saturday to tear down the Christmas tree and all decor and sweep the floors. So, the house was tidy, but not perfect. Around 6 o'clock I awoke from my Sunday nap to Texan giving a speech. I missed the first few lines due to...being asleep, but I woke up to him saying, "I can maintain the house without your help after the baby comes. But I can't be expected to clean all of this up then maintain everything. And if someone came over right now, I would be mortified." Wow. That's a tad on the theatrical side. I guess that meant he didn't want to have to do laundry. But then he really got going. He organized our walk-in bedroom closet, filled 3 garbage bags with stuff from our workout room closet and old clothes, and I finally got him to part with the THREE stand-up lamps we have been hanging onto for no reason. (Let's not mention the 2 baseball bats he found in a dry creek and was hanging onto in case of emergency--a baseball emergency). He organized our junk drawer in the kitchen and the cabinets under the kitchen sink and bathroom sinks. I almost got another lecture about the bottom kitchen cabinet, then he remembered that I haven't been able to get down on that level comfortably in weeks. So, he did his magic. It was about 2 hours of him running around the house asking, "what can we throw away?" *sigh* My loving pack-rat caught the clutter-clearing bug. It's only happened twice in our marriage, so I really enjoy it when he gets in this mood. I scrubbed the inside of the fridge, dusted, and mopped the floors yesterday. And now our house is as clean as ever for baby. The stage is set, and we await the star performer.

I just had my 40 week checkup. I am 39 weeks and five days today, and it was the first time I ever measured smaller than my  time. My belly measured 38 weeks. The worst news was that I am still only at 1 centimeter. I wanted to start crying, because I thought it would help, but I just feel too annoyed to even cry. My doctor wants to see me Friday for another check of the old cervix. His words, "Come back Friday, and we'll see what we can do. Then maybe we can have a baby Monday."  Kind of cryptic and confusing. My next plan was the get a taco from Taco Bell to tide me over, since I needed to have the state inspection done on my car before heading home.  I got my hot, steamy taco and pulled into my favorite $3 car wash. It's my favorite because after you pay the small fee and come out looking shiny, you have access to the free vacuums and trash cans to detail the inside of the car. But the worker man told me that their computer had just shut down and they couldn't take any cars through at the moment. No! I wanted to eat my taco in the car wash. It was going to be magical. So, I went to the crappiest car wash ever, where their vacuums (the 2 that arent broken) smelled like a cow barn and the change machine was out of order. Then, I drove all the way back to about 8 minutes from my house where there is conveniently located an inspection shop, and was told that they cannot do inspections because they ran out of the green inspection stickers. The guys said, "Come back Thursday and I'll give you a discount." But my inspection expired TODAY. If I were to wait, I might get fined. Then I told him I am due to have a baby any day, so I don't want to push it off and risk it. His response, "Oh, you know how those due dates are..." DON'T remind me.

So I had to drive all the way back into town to Jiffy Lube for an inspection, where I realized I was out of gas. It was the trip that wouldn't end. I also tried to donate a box to Goodwill but first I wanted to get something out of it that had gotten thrown in by mistake, and the box was too heavy for my to maneuver, so I gave up, and there it sits in the back seat of my car. It was an intensely frustrating morning of driving around, turning into wrong parking lots, trying to make illegal U-turns and running my tank to E. And every issue, though slight, was exacerbated by the fact that there is no end in sight to this pregnancy. And I almost went a WHOLE month on that tank of gas, dagg-nabbitt.

Tomorrow, if I'm still pregnant, I plan to bathe my pooches so they smell good for baby sister, and I plan to go grocery shopping for things that Texan will feel comfortable preparing while I'm on the mend. I would've gotten the shopping done today on my outing, but I only like to do major shopping once per month for budget purposes, so im holding off for January. And, alas, this month hasn't quite ended yet. It looks like I won't have the last baby of 2013 or the first baby of 2014. But at this point, I will take her in a box, with a fox, wearing socks, or on an ox. I just don't want to be spherical any longer. "But you always wanted to be pregnant. You always wanted this," says Texan. He doesn't understand why something I wanted so badly can make me feel so dumpy. I want to be pregnant when it's necessary--when I'm forming a life. At this point, I don't feel a NEED to be pregnant anymore. She can survive happily on the outside now, and yet I'm still pregnant! This post has taken a sharp turn onto Downer Street. I'll wrap up with a photo. Here I am at 39 weeks and 4 days.

Don't I look exstatic? I can't smile because it shows how puffy my face is. The fluid-filled sacks that were once cheeks now swallow my eyes and give me a slight far-eastern appearance, which doesn't go we'll with my hair color. Also, don't mind that I'm wearing hooters shorts with my smock of a shirt. I had been wearing jeans--but that just didn't last long. 

Here it is, New Year's Eve. Texan has the day off tomorrow, so maybe we'll  find something fun to do.  The good Lord knows there's only one reason I want to be awake at midnight tonight and that is to be in a hospital bed. I'll settle for taking my Zyrtec and falling asleep by 10.

 Someone party for me and SJ.