Pregnancy Confessions: 36 weeks and breathing

I was going to delay writing this post until my baby shower, but my need to over-share took over, so here it is.

Pregnancy Confessions: I can breathe and he is huge 

What does 36 weeks on Susie look like?

This.

Pregnant musings

Weeks 33 and 34 were not fun. We were really busy at work, and I didn't drink enough water, so I turned into a bloated water balloon. Therefore, all pictures of me at Christmastide also resemble a body of water. I felt sick. I looked sick. I wanted everything to end. Thankfully, the holiday retail season ended, a slower pace emerged, I drank more water (it's weight loss magic, people), and maternity leave began January 6th. 

Drinks that magical substance, water

At 35 weeks, the man child was living in my ribs. That was exceedingly uncomfortable. I couldn't bend. I couldn't breathe. His kicks made my long hair bounce. It was ridiculous. 

Then one day I woke up, and I realized I could breathe. I found a space between my chest and my bump. I looked a little more....human. And felt a whole lot better. It does hurt to walk more than before, but now that I'm not working, I'll probably think everything hurts less. 

Breathing inspired me to do more great things, and when I read a blog post about a someone who'd cut her own hair successfully, I just had to try. A few snips later, my hair was several inches shorter, and the curls much perkier. (See above picture for verification.)  I'd like to thank pregnancy hormones for growing my hair out to an annoying length and for giving me the moxie to cut that length off. 

I want to point out that high, front-loading washing machines do not work for short, pregnant women. Just a fyi. 

Maternity wear

Now that I'm on maternity leave, I can fully embrace my pregnancy uniform of yoga pants, leggings, long tops, boots, maxi skirts, chunky necklaces, and flip flops. (Yes, the US is freezing, and I'm wearing flip flops. That's why they call us the Golden State.)

The last few weeks of finagling  my very not-maternity-whatsoever dress pants around my burgeoning belly were...difficult, at best.  I stubbornly refused to buy maternity work pants, thinking I'd save money that way. Of course, now I utterly hate those pants, so I'll be buying new ones when I go back to work anyways.

Synopsis: non-maternity waist lines are cruel. The end. 

Cravings

Apples, of the large, luscious variety sold by warehouse stores such as Sam's Club. I'm not sure why I didn't give into the craving earlier, since they satiate a sweet tooth and are reasonably healthy. So, if baby man is like his Aunt Birdie and requests apples for his birthday--your own bag of fruit is like gold in a big family--it is entirely my fault. Entirely.

And green olives. We have a few jars of gourmet ones that Stephen got for Christmas, but I can't find the open jar. It's really quite torturous. 

I also read far too many posts on r/babybumps, and I'm not sure how quitting that habit post-baby's arrival will go down. Probably painfully and with many tears. 

Learning

I have various files open on my computer right now for my Creative Writing seminar, and I'm planning (well, will be) my attack plan for my remaining few classes. Blessedly, my *dear professor, I'm having a child in a few weeks* emails went extremely well. Perks of a Christian university, perhaps?

What others say

The lovely Haley of Carrots for Michelmas wrote this post about being pregnant with ex-utero children, something that, admittedly, has been worrying me lately. Per her usual, she is sweet, brilliant, and introspective. I loved it and needed it. 

Habits

I need to stop registry stalking. It's a horrible habit I picked up from our wedding, and it's manifesting itself in crazy form now.

I need to start  nesting, since he's going to be here soon, but my nesting instinct is still at an attractive nil. 

I read some unpublished blog drafts from my first trimester--they were hysterical. I strongly recommend writing those disjointed, exhausted thoughts down in the first few weeks. They eventually prove to be comic gold. 

How big is baby?

I have two pregnancy apps on my phone. One places him at a low six pounds and the other at a high six pounds. I assume he's somewhere in the middle.  Speaking of that, I should probably quit being stubborn and call my doctor's office back, so we can talk logistics on my rescheduled appointment. 

Now back to my apples, water, and capstone--with plenty of bathroom breaks.