Well, it’s now June. And in June, I’m going to become a mother. That is insane!
I hit 39 weeks pregnant today. I’m officially only seven days away from my due date. And while both my midwives and the ultrasound tech think I’m going to go into labor early because Baby J is measuring big (I’ve been measuring at 40+ weeks since week 37), Craig and I both have the sneaking suspicion I’m going to be pregnant for a few more weeks—although we wouldn’t be crushed either way.
One of the best tidbits of advice we got from our birth classes was to think of your “due month” instead of a “due date”. People get so fixated on their due date, and really, that due date is just an educated guess (and only 4% actually go into labor on their due date). Whereas, a due month (starting at the beginning of week 38 and going until week 42—if your health care provider lets you go that long) is much more reasonable—80% of women give birth during that time. So we’re rockin’ the due month philosophy.
Either way, sometime between today and June 22nd, I’ll be a Mama to this little girl (who we found out has a lot of hair thanks to a late-term ultrasound)!
I’m feeling pretty great for being so close to the end. So many women talk about how the end of pregnancy is so incredibly uncomfortable, and while it isn’t my favorite thing in the whole world, it’s a cake walk compared to the discomfort I had in the first two trimesters. With the heat and humidity, I’m dealing with some seriously swollen feet and ankles (flip-flops are the only shoes that fit anymore). And walking up stairs or really anything with any kind of incline is an out-of-breath workout. But other than that, I’m feeling pretty normal.
I am getting excited to get my body back. I’ve gained 45 pounds, and while it’ll be nice to not have a basketball strapped to my stomach anymore and eventually work on getting back to my pre-pregnancy size, I’m really more talking about getting other things back to normal. Like being able to breathe through my nose (which hasn’t happened since October) or being able to drink water without feeling like I’m going to toss my cookies (again, happening since October).
I wrapped up the majority of my work projects a few weeks ago, so I’ve been really trying to focus on embracing my nesting instincts for the past few weeks. I’m not much of a cleaner/organizer, so if these hormones are giving me the urge to do something like scrub down our recycling bins inside-and-out, I’m gonna go with it (like I did last weekend). There are still quite a few things that I’d like to get done before I go into labor (the nursery still isn’t finished, I still have a few more blog posts I’d like to write, I have some sewing projects I’d like to do), but nothing is a necessity. So I’m kinda just floating around in mega-pregnant bliss right now.
It might sound lazy, but I’m trying to embrace my last few days of not being a parent. It’s not that I’m not excited about meeting Baby J, it’s just that I’m aware that the second I feel that first contraction, my life is forever going to change. So I’m taking some time to enjoy the things that I might not get to do for the next 18 or so years. I’m taking naps. I’m sleeping in. I’m watching crappy TV. I’ve even found some time to do some more freezer cooking. Which I’m sure we will seriously appreciate over the next few months.
Anywho, there isn’t a whole lot more to report on the BabyWatch front (I have no “signs” of labor yet and I’ve opted out of cervical checks at my weekly midwife appointments—so I have no idea what’s going on up in there).
I have no plans on taking a laptop to the hospital when the time comes, so chances are, I won’t update here with an announcement that Baby J has arrived until after we get home from the hospital (and our hospital requires a minimum 48 hour stay after delivery). But I’m sure we won’t be able to keep our excitement about our new arrival off of social media.
Welcome to June, my friends. It’s gonna be a doozy.