I mean, really, what could it hurt? The internet tells me that --as of this point-- 99% of babies born have no trouble breathing on their own, eating, or doing anything else babies are supposed to do. They're just a little smaller. Let me just say, the fact that I am starving every couple hours (to the point where my tummy rumbles audibly) tells me that someone is really just getting bigger. The rest is done. Baked. Formed. Produced.
So, as baby gets bigger, so goes my body. When I say bigger, I mean that I'm considering getting a sign for my butt that says, "This vehicle makes wide turns." Or, maybe the triangular sign that farm implements use when driving on the road -- the slow moving vehicle sign. Basically, bigger = slower. I can't walk at a normal pace--only waddle at a turtle's clip. From the back, this must look something like a kid in a diaper learning to walk. Jerky and halting, a little worrisome (as in: does she need help?!), and painful for me. This normal part of pregnancy doesn't feel like it should be normal. Perhaps this is why someone at school told me, "The last month is hell. Don't let anyone else tell you differently. They'd be lying." I appreciated the brutal honesty, because a lot of people seem to have conveniently forgotten that the feeling of your pelvis splitting apart isn't nice, that your feet swelling like little balloons isn't convenient, and that simple things--like digging in the garden--are anything but simple.
Well, just look at it -- there's nothing to say except, wow--THAT'S g
otten bigger!
