Wednesday, September 14, 2011

Thirty weeks and counting...

I had a doctor's appointment last week and the pregnancy is going very well. All my tests are coming back saying I'm healthy, which is reassuring. I feel like I'm more nervous about the tests this time around because I know in more detail all the things that can go wrong. I'm also more nervous about labor and delivery. Last time it was a vague, unknown fear. This time I know exactly how painful it will be. It takes a lot more bravery to get pregnant a second time.

My doctor did say I'm measuring a little big for how far along I am. For those not "in the know," at this point in pregnancy they actually use a tiny tape measure on your stomach to see how big you are. At my previous appointment I was measuring spot on, so in three weeks the baby had a growth spurt. If we're still big at my next appointment I'll go in for another ultrasound. This is a little scary to me, because I don't think I ever measured "big" with Ben and he was 8 pounds 11 ounces. How much of a behemoth am I growing this time?! I assume if they determine that the baby's big I might be having him before the projected due date. I'd really rather not have a ton of medical intervention (induction, c-section). I want to see what it's like to go into labor on my own. But I also don't want a 10 pound baby. Whose vagina just tensed up a little? I can't be the only one.

I'm definitely in the third trimester now, meaning I'm starting to get really uncomfortable. Sleeping has been a problem lately and my back is not my friend. Also, the baby has settled into a comfy little position on my bladder, which basically means I feel like I have to pee all the time. Every time I tell someone I'm due around Thanksgiving they say, "Oh, that's soon!" But 2+ months is NOT soon to a pregnant woman. Especially the LAST 2+ months.

I'm also getting to that point where I'm DONE. I still have 10 weeks to go, but I'm completely over being pregnant. Poor Heath, the next 10 weeks aren't going to be fun for him, either, because I'm going to be a grouchy, complaining blob. Then again, he gets the exact same outcome as I do (a new son) without all the physical labor, so I don't feel too bad for him. (And right now he's thinking to himself, "Yeah, I know.")

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