Somewhere in Between: 9 Months

A few days ago I had my 36-week prenatal appointment, and I found out I am 1 cm dilated and 50% effaced (which really does not mean much since you could be dilated for a month before you actually go into labor, or dilate from zero to several centimeters overnight).  My doctor asked, me if I am ready to have this baby.  When I paused, she rephrased her question and asked, “Ready to not be pregnant anymore, but not ready to have a newborn, right?”

Exactly.

9 month bump

In a recent post, I shared about my mixed feelings on having a newborn in my arms.  On the one hand, I am very excited and anxious to meet and get to know the little guy, and on the other hand, I know that I very much like to sleep in longer stretches than 2 hours at a time.

What is different this time than when I was pregnant with Aliya is how I am feeling physically in this last month.  While you could categorize my last pregnancy as being a “rough” one (with daily vomiting for four months and having gestational diabetes), I was still feeling pretty energetic up until the day of delivery.  Not so, with this pregnancy!  I’m more hot, more achy, more irritable and uncomfortable than I ever remember being with Aliya.  My poor family sits around the living room shrouded in blankets while I run the fans or blast the air conditioner at 10 PM.  I am constantly asking everyone, “Is it HOT, or is it just me?”  Apparently, it’s just me.  I have perfected my pregnant waddle, and I have to tell my husband to “stop walking so fast” because it takes me about an hour to walk from point A to point B.  I walk slowly mainly because of all the pressure I’ve been feeling in my nether regions these days.  Yesterday my doctor said, “I can feel the top of his head!” and I thought, “Oh my God, this kid is going to fall out of my vagina.”  Wouldn’t that be nice?

But son, I think you need to cook just a little longer.  Take the next few weeks to continue growing and developing in mommy’s tummy, and soon enough, we shall see each other face to face.  Also, it would be nice if you gave Daddy and I some time to decide on your name, although your older sister is determined to call you, “Boy.”

Let the countdown begin!

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