The final countdown

My pregnancy app reminds me that I have 12 days left until my due date. It also reminds me that Baby Girl is the size of a watermelon, though I don’t need that reminder because I’m pretty sure she’s now the size of an award-winning pumpkin and plenty of people keep reminding me of that. Which is fun, because even though my maternity clothes no longer fit me and my belly hangs  awkwardly out of the bottom of all tank tops, I sometimes don’t actually notice. 🙂 I’m not lying when I say that being absolutely gigantic is one of my favorite parts of being pregnant.

I still feel mostly great. I could elaborate about the pains of pregnancy-induced carpal tunnel, or having to get up 4x each night to pee, and then, having numb and swollen hands that make it difficult to even rip off a square of toilet paper, but I won’t. It’s really not all that remarkable. I feel lucky most of the time as this has been a really great 9 months.

What I AM feeling is sort of bored. The downside to insisting that you get everything pregnancy- and baby-related done super early is that you run out of things to do. Baby Bean’s nursery is finished. Her clothes are washed and folded. And refolded. (And there’s only so many times I can hold and caress them before Mike starts to worry.) Our bags are packed. We have frozen food in the freezer. I am wrapping things up at work. And these are just the necessities.

I’ve already entered the territory of totally overboard. I’ve made homemade cloth diaper wipe spray. And made back-up/extras. I posted the recipe for it on the fridge. I’ve printed out laundry instructions and highlighted appropriate information for our washer/dryer model. I’ve researched what type of gemstones are good to have with you during birth. I’ve given the cats a pep talk. I’ve organized a baby first aid kit. I’ve made hair clips that likely won’t even fit her or will rip out her fine baby hair, but at least they’re ready for when she’s older. I’ve calculated her zodiac sign (another Cancer to join the family) and the impact of being born during Mercury Retrograde. My iPad search engine includes the following phrases: “final weeks of pregnancy projects,” “my belly is making weird shapes,” “good romantic getaways post baby” and “vacations with a 1 year old.” And those are just the ones that aren’t incredibly embarrassing (think, the truth about post-partum recovery).

It’s hard to believe she’s almost here.

Pregnancy has kept me laughing up until the very end. Every day my right armpit begins to smell strange and there’s absolutely nothing I can do to stop it. Other than change 3x and keep washing the tank tops that no longer fit me.

A few weeks ago, we decided to invest in puppy potty training pads. That’s right. A really fun conversation to have with a co-worker who climbs into your car is why you are sitting on a crinkly, waterproof pad meant for a dog. Same thing when your brother-in-law comes to visit. Hey – we have nice couches and we just bought a new car and the last thing I feel like dealing with is cleaning up a water breakage.

Or the look on your husband’s face when you show him the gigantic pairs of underwear that you are now in love with and may decide to wear forever. Even though you are (sort of) kidding, it’s worth saying to see his reaction.

These are the things that remind you that all dignity is fast slipping away. But it still makes me laugh really hard.

And then there are things that I will truly miss about being pregnant, like having strangers smile at me a LOT. And just generally be super nice and complimentary. Or getting away with wearing whatever I want, tent-sized underwear included. Asking for nightly ice cream and foot rubs. Going almost a year without once having to suck in after eating too much. Having a free pass to cry over sad Youtube videos (and other videos or commercials that actually aren’t sad at all but have some type of music).

It’s been awesome. And I really think I’ll miss it, the good, the bad, and the ugly, if only because it only happens once and will never happen again (first-time pregnancy, that is). That’s what I’m going to keep reminding myself of during these last 12 (or 5 or 20 or god-I-hope-not 24) days while I’m busy researching infant Halloween costumes, making baby sounds at the cats, and Googling “how many times is it normal to pee before I should be worried.”

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