Well well well….look at this girl here. She has finally gotten “big”.
Andrew keeps giggling at me and my round belly. “I think the baby had a growth spurt!” he says. When I lay on my side I can feel the weight of the baby pulling at my stomach. And I’m walking a bit more slowly (and cautiously!) these days. I’m one step away from the pregnant-lady-waddle.
All this strain on my body makes for an increase in anxiousness about d-day getting here sooner rather than later. I certainly wouldn’t consider my current state completely uncomfortable….but I’m a little nervous to get to that point. I don’t want my hubby to have to deal with me if and when I get to that point.
But you know what? The aforementioned “d-day” brings a whole other list of anxieties. The thought of going into labor is SCA-RY. Truly my one and only expectation for giving birth is to deliver a healthy baby. I’m not ashamed to use pain medication. I won’t be upset if the doctor tells me I need a c-section (though obviously I’d prefer NOT to have surgery). Yes, I said doctor. Like at a hospital. No mid-wife or at-home birth for me. I’m going old-school (well, I guess an at home would really be OLD school…I’m talking….past 100 years old-school). The anticipation of labor and facing the unknown is enough for me. If it takes a whole team of nurses, doctors, IVs, epidurals and the likes to get my baby out safe and sound, then so be it (but please cross your fingers that by some miracle of God it is naturally pain free and sets the record for the quickest labor EVER!).
In these photos: Levi’s jeans, Steve Madden clogs, vintage red button up blouse