Well we’re on the home stretch now. As usual, I feel like we’re behind. Michael assures me we aren’t. We’ve having a final yard sale today before we start putting things in the alley…. we’ve done better today at 9:00 a.m than we did the whole time at the last one. We’ve got nothing to do today, so no harm in sitting around in the yard.
Went to the therapy pool last night.. I can’t seem to get the hang of it. The innertube is kind of wide, so I have to struggle to stay in it… I do better just standing there. My back does seem to be getting better though, despite my not being able to find the perfect position. I’ve been getting a repreive until around 5:30 each day, which is liveable. If I can get by without the pain until 5:30 while we’re on the trip, then we’ll be golden.
Avery has taken to positioning herself with her face down on my left side and her butt poking out on my right. It’s pretty funny, it makes my stomach look all lopsided and weird. Which reminds me…. When you guys see a pregnant woman out there- please refrain from any further commentary after the obligatory “how far along are you?”. Yes, you have a 50/50 chance of getting through it without offending someone but who likes those odds? I was in the Y locker room last night and this lady goes- “ooh you’re all baby!” to which I replied “oh that’s nice of you to say, thank you!” (I was, after all, wearing my new fancy non maternity bikini and was feeling pretty sausage-y). Then she has to go and ask. And before I can answer she adds- “due any day now, huh?”… “Uh, nope, I have a ways to go- 13 more weeks to be exact.” …..”Oh my goodness! Carrying twins?”, she chirps. “Uh, nope, just extra big, I guess”, I mumble as I slink into the shower. So you see everyone…there’s no reward in it. Just seriously: STFU about other people’s pregnancies come on. Please don’t get into the horrible labor stories, or the “you’re carrying like it’s a boy, are you sure they told you you’re having a girl?”, or the “wow you are huge, I bet you’re miserable all the time!” kind of comments. We can do without them. Yes we know we’re huge, even if we’re not, really. We can also do without being reminded how miserable we are, which is why we’re at the Y, or the ice cream shop, or the movies, or wherever else we’ve taken refuge from our thoughts. And we know about the hospital. And C-sections, and labor, and about the doctor who almost killed a baby last week because he tried to turn it while it was breach, and how no one ever lasts the whole labor without begging for the drugs, and I know how little I am and how much more it will hurt because of that. I get it.
And that’s my rant for the day about being pregnant in the presence of strangers.
I’ve been working from home too long.