39 weeks

 

I’m 39 weeks pregnant today. I don’t expect to be writing about this again after this week, both for obvious reasons (i.e. the end is near) and because I too am thoroughly sick of it. Maybe more childbirth-y things, or “what is my mother-in-law doing here” things that are related but not specifically pregnancy things. If I stop and think about it, there’s quite a lot of wtf sort of things in the near future, or so it seems. Maybe that’s the RAGE speaking, though.

Shortly after giving birth to my son, I remember thinking how I would better appreciate pregnancy if I went through it again. That if seemed a lot bigger at that point, so I told myself I would worry less and enjoy it more. Announce the whole endeavor on Facebook. Take bump pictures, though probably not for posting on Facebook. Savor all the little kicks. Try to appreciate the complicated feat my body was undertaking in growing a baby inside me.

This isn’t happening, except for maybe the kicks part. Even then, it’s less savoring and more confirming she’s still alive because it turns out I haven’t been able to turn off the worrying part really. Mostly, though, I’m over this feeling of having had my body taken over. I know it will be no picnic when she’s on the outside, but I want my brain, body, self back please.

Usual disclaimer about being grateful, I know not everyone’s this lucky and I feel bad, I’m very glad I avoided the fertility treatments a second time, etc.

Currently, I feel a near constant PMS-like irritation at just about everyone and everything. I know, intellectually, that a lot of my frustration is at trivial things but trivializing the frustration itself just makes me angrier. Random parts of my body hurt no matter what position I’m in – my back, my butt, my legs, my ribs, my hips. I get heartburn, especially if whatever I’ve consumed has onions, which turn out to be in far more dishes than you might expect, or if I have some combination of chocolate and coffee, the two greatest things in this world. I’m tired all the time, exacerbated greatly by the fact I’m having trouble sleeping. I need to pee all the time and, in a FUN new development, I appear to have developed pregnancy hemorrhoids and descended to a whole new level of discomfort as a result. Also, my appetite generally is kind of shot.

On the baby front… well, she’s doing well. She’s not just caught up now, she’s measuring at least a week ahead on all the growth charts and kicking away happily. I know I’m complaining a lot now, but I am looking forward to meeting her.

On a more medical front, my sense of being fed up is apparently mitigating the stress of prenatal appointments because my blood pressure is actually doing well lately. I get the midwife equivalent of being patted on the head for not putting on too much weight and even losing some between my last two appointments, which should feel gratifying but actually just feels irritating because OF COURSE no one gains weight in a linear fashion and racial differences and what is this arbitrary 10 kilogram limit that they try to enforce anyway? I keep getting protein in my pee, but not enough to set off any pre-eclampsia alerts and also because, as I said above, the blood pressure isn’t doing anything exciting and body part swelling must be one of the few things I haven’t checked off on the symptom list. Instead, I keep getting various vague suggestions as to how to deal with/explain this – drink more water, have less salt, perhaps I have a cold…

Being 39 weeks, everyone is now also on high alert for the baby’s exit. If she is still on the inside at my next prenatal appointment, I believe they’re going to want me to schedule an induction. I was going to attempt to explain that one in a paragraph but really, it warrants a whole post and yes, I’m angry about that too.

So, in conclusion, I’m 39 weeks pregnant and pissed off.

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