Lots of women told me about how sick of being pregnant they got towards the end. And I replied "eh, it's okay, I've been like this for a while, what's another couple of weeks?"
This morning, I am hereby tormented by being pregnant. I really am starting to think it's all in my head. I'm not really going to have a baby, because I would have had one by now, this is all one big (9lb!) figment of my immagination. And you'd think all these hormones today making my sobby and not want to get out of bed would serve some other purpose, like squeezing.
Nope.
Well-meaning people have told us the "tricks." Thank you, really, but I've heard it all and I'm apparently immune to it all.
I have come up with my own idea-- a trampoline. But I don't have one, curses!
I told Kevin this morning I didn't want to eat because she's only going to get more enormous, only to tell him 5 minutes later that I wanted blueberry pancakes (which I just finished eating).
I think I'm going to go jump up and down or something...
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My OB knew I was done when he asked, "So, how are you?" and I said nothing but flung my arms out wide to show him a long chain of paperdolls I'd made, a line of grotesquely pregnant women joined at their enormous derrieres on one side and their popped out bellybuttons on the other.
I couldn't sleep at all anymore for lack of comfie positions, so I'd stay up making paperdoll chains with the scary kitchen scisors that cut through meat bones. My husband was terrified.
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