Week 31: 7 months!

30 weeks, 5 days.

So I’m now in the eighth month of pregnancy. If that isn’t enough to scare the heck out of a person, I don’t know what is.

That’s right, you heard what I said – the eighth month. As in, next month is the last month I’ll be pregnant, praise the Lord and hallelujah.

Don’t get me wrong – this stage of pregnancy is awesome in many respects. I get to have daily quality time with Small Monster, who kicks and squirms and lets Mama know he’s there, and I really enjoy the feel of little feet against my hand (he’s head-down now, so I at least have a general idea of the difference between feet and elbows), and the anticipation of meeting the little guy is more sweet than anxious. Getting to watch my husband interact with the belly is sweet too, though I always feel like I wish I could go into the other room and give them some quality time alone, since I get to be with the little one all the time. Nothing is cuter than seeing your husband kiss your belly and tell your baby (in German, no less) to keep kicking Mama because she likes it – and my husband is already endowed with devastating evil cuteness when he wants to show it! I don’t have a chance, I’m telling you…

But then there’s the other stuff. I’m basically unable to hold on to a train of thought (I’m sure it shows in my writing), my ribs are killing me from being pushed up by the uterus, and I am freaking enormous. The belly is so heavy that I have to be very careful when switching sides at night so as not to move quickly and strain the ligaments that hold Small Monster’s living quarters in place. I now wake up at least once a night with extreme pain on the opposite side from the one I’m lying on from the strain of supporting his weight for so many hours – and that is with a pillow supporting my belly! And, of course, I waddle. (Of course, I remember my freshman year in high school overhearing one of the seniors in band saying I walk like a duck, so maybe I’ve always done that… funny how these things stick with you.) I feel big, I feel tired, and I feel overwhelmed. With 9 weeks to go (and maybe only 5-6), there’s still a lot to do, and I need to get it done.

It’s really starting to hit home that I’ll be a mama soon though – my friends are throwing me a shower very soon, and I’m packing my hospital bag. The fact that we’ll basically decide in 5 weeks or so how he’s going to be born (if he makes it that long) is pretty scary too. And our childbirth classes start tomorrow afternoon, though if they suck as much as our breastfeeding class did, I suspect my husband and I will have to start a poker game in the back of the class or something (yes, we are those kids who make trouble when we get bored. So sue us!).

Not much else to tell – I keep meaning to take a belly shot, since I haven’t done it for weeks, but I never seem to get around to it.

What I need to get around to now, though, is breakfast, before we have a repeat of yesterday’s Return of the Morning Sickness…