We’re down to the last 8 weeks (give or take a couple of weeks). I look forward to holding this tiny little bundle in my arms. I want to see what s/he looks like. I want to know what his or her little personality is going to be. I’m anxious. But at the same time, I have this inexplicable sadness. Things that use to bring me joy, now kind of irritate me. I think the worst thing that could happen to me right now is to be put on bed rest. I just don’t think I could handle that. Let me rephrase that. . . it would be really tough for me to handle. But right now, sometimes, I just want to cover my head with the blankets and have the world go away. Work is okay. I have new responsibilities (kind of stressful at this point but it makes the day go by faster), but that’s not my problem. It’s everything else. I’m tired of trying to be upbeat when I’m not. I vacillate between wanting people to do things for me and wanting people to just leave me alone (add to that the fact that I completely hate asking for help. . . not a good combination). And then, I wrestle with myself. I know that I’m just being hormonal and silly. I try to talk myself out of feeling a certain way, but it’s just not always possible. It’s one thing to know it. It’s another thing to believe it. Two more months. I will survive.
My ankles are getting worse. They actually get so large sometimes that they hurt now. Talk about timing though. I have an office now so once a day I shut my door, lie on the floor and put my feet up. I “drain” them for about 30 minutes. Of course, the relief doesn’t last long, but it does make them stop hurting for a little while. I’m also starting to have trouble with my hands (and wrists). My hands hurt the worst when I’m holding a phone (and they fall asleep at night). I have read that some women get carpel tunnel syndrome due to the swelling. That might stink. Nothing I can do about it but wait and see.
Now for some good news. I passed my glucose tolerance test! Woo hoo! The nurse told me not to overdo the sugar, but I passed. ;)
Matt and Lauren graduated from college on Saturday (both with honors). ;) They are such intelligent, young people with a bright future ahead of them. We are so happy for them and were very glad to be able to celebrate with them this weekend. However, going to the graduation on Saturday was a feat in itself. I spent a great portion of the morning trying to do a pedicure on my own feet. They were in desperate need of repair (especially since I will be wearing only flip flops for the duration of this pregnancy). After a lot of groaning, grunting and straining, I was able to make them more presentable. I even got one coat of paint on my toenails before Johnathan burst into the bedroom in a huff. We had to leave immediately! It took me another 5 minutes or so to gather everything I needed to finish getting dressed in the car (mind you, he wasn’t exactly ready to walk out the door either). And so began our saga. As we neared the graduation site, we hit traffic (go figure). Everyone was circling trying to find parking. And then it started to rain (God has a wonderful sense of humor). Neither of us knows the campus so when we exhausted our knowledge of parking areas, we just started following other cars. (My husband doesn’t stress about much, but I have to tell you that every once in a while, he takes on a whole different persona. . . this was one of those times.) The longer we drove, the worse the rain got. We finally found a parking spot about a half a mile away from the arena. Luckily, there was an umbrella in the car. Unluckily, I’m seven months pregnant. . . and it wasn’t raining straight down. We squeezed together as tight as we could. Remember those three-legged races you used to do as a kid? Imagine that with a grown man and an obviously pregnant woman holding an umbrella, in pouring down rain. . . for a half a mile. At least our hair stayed dry. Otherwise, we were soaked to the bone. The good news was that it wasn’t just us. Everyone that arrived when we did were in the same boat. We saw men in suits with their entire backsides drenched. We were walking as fast as we could, but we still caught ourselves slowing down when we had to cross a large puddle. . . habit, I guess. By the time we got close to the building, we were laughing. All you could do was find the humor in it at that point. I got off easier since I had flip flops on. Johnathan’s feet squished for the rest of the day. But we made it on time. We found Donna and Barry who were saving us seats. I, of course, had to go to the bathroom before getting too comfortable. As I was headed up the stairs, a man stopped me and said (through a smirk), “Is it raining outside?” I have never wanted to hit a stranger so hard in my life.