So. Done. Being. Pregnant.
Please keep in mind that I write these updates at the end of the weeks. Which means tomorrow I will be 39 weeks pregnant. Which means that as I write this, I am only eight days away from my due date. Which means I have been pregnant forever. And I would like not to be anymore.
I am definitely feeling uncomfortable. But I am also feeling that Mr. Gabriel Clark isn't really on his way quite yet. I am sincerely hoping for labor to spontaneously kick in any minute now, but there have been no signs that it's on its way. I am hoping that the doctor gives me some good news on Wednesday, and tells me that my body has made a little progress! Both J and I are so ready to meet our little man. Even J said last night that "it's just time for him to be here."
In other news, the nesting continues. J is so done with the cleaning. I feel for the guy, I truly do. Luckily for me, he realizes that I am just very
On the upside, my uber-clean house makes me happy. Unfortunately for J, he does not get the same satisfaction out of this particular job well done. If there's no baby by this weekend, I've promised a day of rest, without any cleaning. (For the record, he believes my promise to be empty, as I will certainly think of some other cleaning emergency that must be handled. I'm not counting this out.)
I got an unexpected day off today, so I was not out of bed this morning for J to take my weekly belly pic. So I improvised, lest I be hunted down and maimed due to lack of photograph. Here I am, in all of my big, big, big glory.