Part of my brain is in a coma and all I want to do is snuggle on the couch and read the second Harry Potter book (approximately once a year I read all the Harry Potter series because I DON'T KNOW, that's why).
Monday was a busy day filled with baby. We had an OB appointment where it was once again announced that I am having a fabulous pregnancy and am the epitome of a healthy pregnant woman with a healthy, kicky fetus. Also, it turns out I am still small, have no more room for a baby, but I was assured that he'll make room. Awesome.
Then we ran errands before our Bringing Baby Home Class. This class is provided by a labor and delivery nurse from the hospital. She had a British accent, which made it more tolerable when she said blatantly incorrect or outdated things, like "newborns sometimes have swollen breasts and genitals because of excess fluid," rather than the correct answer, which is that baby's have been exposed to mommy's hormones. I was very proud of myself when I did not correct her and usually didn't whisper the correct answer to R. Usually.
On the bright side, we learned more about the specific hospital procedures we can expect during and after delivery. Also, R finally understands just how much the baby affects me because I have no torso. Oh comparison, you are a heartless bitch. You see, one of the women (honestly, she was probably 10 years younger than me and I wanted to be like: WHY are you doing this now?? Because she specifically said it was planned and her husband, who was an outstanding example of humanity and had courteously placed his nametag over his penis, making me wonder if he had nicknamed his genitals Collin, agreed wholeheartedly...but I digress) is due in less than 2 weeks and her long torso has almost hidden the baby. Seriously, her belly looked like mine did 10 weeks ago. After the class R kept repeating, "Really, she's due at the beginning of May?? Really?," and then he would stare meaningfully at my monstrous belly that was swaying and bucking because the baby did not stop kicking me all day Monday.
Next, we met with a pediatrician, who, thankfully, is awesome and we feel perfectly fine letting her stab our baby with needles for the next several years. So that finally got crossed off the list.
The following day (yesterday, in case you need reminding like I do) was filled with work-related madness. There's been some uncertainty about whether I will have much work to do next month. Basically, my schedule was cleared so I could write yet another grant, but the grant hasn't come out yet and now we have to worry about me having enough time to complete it before the baby arrives. Part of me is REALLY excited about the possibility of not working. I could read and relax and browse Etsy! Part of me, the part that also likes money and knows I need to avoid Etsy, is worried that I will drive myself crazy if I don't keep busy. After all, there isn't a lot left to do to get ready for our kicky monster (see what I did there? I made myself laugh. Yep, that's how tired I am).
R is terrified that if I'm not busy I will come up with a gazillion things for him to do. He's really afraid I'll want him to repaint the livingroom. Honestly, he should stop using that as an example, because it's giving me ideas.
Anyway, I'm still pregnant. Am starting to get super tired and run down. Heartburn and bathroom trips are seriously cutting into my sleep, and there's probably something else, but I forget.
I am so ready to have this baby.