Last Friday, Mia and I had lunch with Jodi and Michael, and I decided that I would wear a somewhat decent pair of pants since none of my maternity jeans will stay up and I didn't think Jodi needed to be subjected to an afternoon of watching me haul my pants back up over my monstrous ass. So, I pulled out a pair of pants that I wore to work a lot when I was pregnant with Mia, and that I actually wore to the hospital the day she was born. I couldn't button them. I couldn't even get close. I was so despondent that I just got dressed out of the hamper, don't tell Jodi, ok?
The belly at 35 weeks, she is formidable.
(I stood behind that chair on purpose. It's an Ass Shield.) The belly is also usually lopsided, with a noticeable hump sticking out on one side or the other as the fetus shoves his butt out from under my ribs, however briefly. The belly also tends to be visually in motion, hopping and rolling and jutting unpredictably as the fetus practices his Riverdancing, and I can only assume that to the casual observer this must be a rather disturbing sight to see. I mean, it freaks my husband the hell out, and he knows to expect it.
I suppose I should try not to complain, as I have had two entirely uneventful and mostly very easy pregnancies and have also made it through 74 total weeks of pregnancy so far without a single stretch mark (and oh yes, I am pounding the beejeezus out of my wooden desk as I type that) and I am also a bit sad that within the next few weeks I will end my career as a pregnant woman and will never again feel a child rolling around inside me, but holy cow the final stretch is just a misery, isn't it? Everything just hurts, and everything is a huge pain in the ass and I am still recovering from a kick to the ribs I got three solid days ago and whine whine whine poor me I'll shut up now.
On a brighter note, I am interviewing maids today, and that makes me very happy. Oh, how I miss the maids we had when I was working, and oh how fondly I am anticipating the few visits I received as a birthday gift from my parents for after the baby is born. It may even make all the end of pregnancy woes worth it. Yes, I am a yacht and can't sleep and can't stand up without careful planning and a great deal of pain, but for a few weeks someone else is going to clean the toilets, and that is a thing of beauty.
Also of a more positive bent, we may have named this baby. First name at least, middle name is still a bit nebulous and I suppose both are subject to change at any time without notice, but I do think the first name will stick and I have started using it to address the fetus. Which one does, you know, mainly to tell him to get his toes the hell out of your tonsils.