5. I've made a grand commitment to Ella's stocking, and I'm over half-way done. There are indubitably a few grave errors, but I think that in the grand scheme of things, finishing it and it resembling the picture is a victory for Christmas. I would say that I'll make her a better one in a few years, when our lives have slowed down a bit, but I can't say it outloud without laughing. I don't know what we'll do if we ever have another baby. Maybe I'll buy a cute stocking and glue sequins on it. Hopefully it'll be a boy and sparkles won't matter. Maybe I'll be interested in it again by then. Who knows. All I know is that right now, this is my last Stocking for awhile, considering my big brother is done with children, I'm done for at LEAST 50 years, and my little brother really enjoys being single. So fortunately, I know the end is near, so it's a lot easier to finish this one.
4. This week, each night at bedtime, I have given Cody my best "I'm miserable" fake cry. It lasts for about 5 minutes before he pulls me up close to him and shushes me, but I would be lying if I said it didn't feel good just to cry at unusually loud levels. It's kind of like in movies when an actress puts her face in a pillow And screams... Except I skip the pillow and say "Wah'" instead. I occasionally throw in a little snippet like "You'll never know my misery!" Or "My stretch marks have stretch marks!" It's a nice way to let out some of my shallow complaints without actually crying about them. I hate stretch marks. I didn't have stretch marks on my stomach until week 30. Even then, it was one lonely stretch mark. It was big, purple, and hurt something awful, but I was okay with it being there as long as it was the only one. During week 34, the baby changed positions, and seemingly overnight, the entire bottom of my stomach is covered in them. It's enough to make me say "WHAT?!" Every time I see them. I'm terrified to see my body after the baby, and I know it's going to be hard, but I know they'll fade in time. Hopefully. Please Lord. And yes, I've seen all of the inspirational quotes about stretch marks reminding you of the journey you went on to bring a life into the world... But pictures of my sweet baby will do that too. These are the facts. I will never smile when I see my stretch marks in the mirror.
3. I'm going to share a bit of an obvious fact with you. Pregnant women feel pretty huge most of the time. Even when we're only 4 or 5 months along and you really can't even tell that we're pregnant and not fat... We feel huge. We wear pants that cover our entire stomach, which was really only acceptable in the 90's, and we wear shirts that have a parachute effect on our physique. Sometimes, we accept that we have a bowling ball under our clothes and wear a super tight shirt to show it off. Then there comes a point that it doesn't matter if we want it to be seen or not... There's no hiding it anymore. So we feel pretty gross and pretty miserable, a lot of the time. It's not that we don't love the sweet bump in the mirror, especially when it distorts and mangles because of the sweet life moving around beneath it, but it's hard to look at when you're seemingly surrounded by really thin women. That being said, I feel it's safe to wager a bet that NO pregnant woman likes to hear the following, in any variation: "Woah! You're huge!" Nope. Because this is what we hear:
"You're the fattiest fatty in the history of all the fatties! There's no way you're just pregnant, you had to have gained at least 405 pounds of extra fat! I can't believe how morbidly obese you are!"
It's also wise not to touch us while you point out our obesity. We're already thinking about stabbing you with our mind forks, so it's probably best that you're not touching our "huge" stomach. It's really pretty rude, and if I were to respond and say "You're huge too!," you would be super offended. There's not a difference. We're growing a baby, but being called fat will never be a compliment to anybody. In lieu of those comments, I would recommend focusing on the baby. Say things like "I can't wait to meet the baby! I know we're getting close!" or "You look great, I'm sure it's no fun being pregnant in the middle of summer." OR "You're so tiny compared to my friend!" Even if it's a lie, we won't know. We won't say "Oh, who's your friend?" We'll smile, because there's somebody larger than us out there. I know this all sounds too silly for words to some of you, but I've also noticed that people who have already had a baby don't make comments about my size. They say things like "I know you feel huge, but you're really not." Or they don't say anything, which is really probably the wisest thing to say. I'm just trying to prevent a fork being shoved into your head if you catch me on a bad day. Thanks for your time.
2. I am drowning in zucchini. Drowning. I have so much Zucchini in my house that I will die under a pile of it. I'm too tired to blanch and save it, I don't want to cook it for dinner every night, but I don't want to throw it away. So it's just piled up on my kitchen counter. SO if anybody is interested in a few hundred zucchinis, I'm your gal! I still love the garden. The little bit of rain we got this weekend has revived it so beautifully. I wish my tomatoes would grow a little faster, though. Preggers can't get enough... they're worth the heartburn! That's a lie. Nothing is worth the heartburn... but since I know that I'm going to get heartburn anyway, I eat them with reckless abandon. I've had to remind myself time and time again that Tums are not candy, and I kind of had to throw myself an intervention. I was completely ignoring the recommended serving sizes, and I made it a week with a new bottle of my beloved antacids, which is kind of the opposite of the recommended serving size. So now, my days kind of consist of choosing if I can soldier through the burn or if I should surrender to the antacids. I really, really, really hope that the wives tale about baby having hair after heartburn is true. Although I've witnessed it be the super opposite of true, I'm holding my breath that Ella will have even the tiniest amount to clip a bow into. That's all I need in this world. Anyway. Garden= grand. Tums=a debt that I can never repay.
1. Week 34 was a pretty simple week. It truly was. I was thankful for a simple week. My mom was able to relax in Florida knowing that I was okay here. I spent the week laughing and loving on my husband, as I'm really trying to absorb the last few weeks as a family of two. I'll miss it immensely, but I know that Ella is going to completely change the way we love each other. We've spent almost 5 years making life wonderful for the other, and I know that she's going to make life wonderful for us. I'm a little nervous, because I've witnessed friends with newborns grow increasingly stressed and they all say it takes a toll on the marriage. I've prayed and prayed against that. I know we'll have days where we just want to sleep while that tiny baby cries. OR maybe we'll feel the need to run away sometimes. But I hope that most of the time, we remember that she was made because of how deeply we love each other, and how deeply the Lord loves us. I hope that we aren't too prideful to call my mom and say "Hey, come hold this baby, we need to be with each other for a few minutes and chug a cup of coffee to make it through the rest of the day." I hope that we recognize when we need to focus on each other. And even though we'll know deep in our hearts that we love each other more than we love anybody else (yes, even more than our daughter,) I hope we never stop striving to show that to each other. We have at least 18 years of a new roomie ahead of us... we're going to need a few reminders.
That's all. Week 34 is done. In the books. Over. I'm feeling "HUGE!" and looking forward to the end. Here's a bump picture. Fattest Fat baby is getting ready! And, it's not a selfie. Somehow the world feels like it's coming back together again.
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