Numbers

Let’s do a little math:

9 – 8.5 = .5 of a month left

40 - 38 = 2 weeks left

280 – 266 = 14 days left

Today is the 38 week mark. Wahoo! 2 weeks left! I’m eight and a half months pregnant. Lucky ducky Shaina. I find myself trying to decide which end of pregnancy is the longest, but I really can’t tell. The barf-a-thon beginning feels slow because starving to death while puking my eyeballs out is disgusting and exhausting. But the belly-is-big at the end feels slow because there’s no guaranteed day or time that it will be over. It could be today. It could be two weeks from today. It could be any time in between. OR (heaven forbid) it could be three or even four weeks from today [eeew, not going to think those thoughts]. Historically I have had on the due date or one day after deliveries. So I’m not hoping very much for anything earlier. But I know from that one day late baby (Rose) that even one extra day of pregnancy is nightmarish. I’m doing my best to keep the look-how-far-I’ve-come perspective rather than the how-much-longer-will-this-actually-take viewpoint. Usually I fail, but those numbers up above help a little. I’ve come a long way!

143 – 9 = 134 pounds at my barfiest

134 + 9 = 143 pounds at the halfway point

143 + 27 = 170 pounds right now

175 = how much my husband weighs

I’ve never really been one to weigh myself or care about a number on the scale. We don’t even have a scale at our house. I’m glad never to have been plagued by that concern. What matters to me is how I feel. So I hope it’s not weird for me to mention my weight. I’ve found that some things that I think other people will think are strange are not actually strange and there’s no way to know what really counts as strange because everyone is different. SO, since it amuses me, I’m going to talk about how much I weigh right now. I’m not comparing or judging or ANYTHING lame like that. BOOM.

Yesterday I had [another] doctor appointment, and when I stepped on the scale I was amused to see a 169.8 on the screen. That’s basically 170. Pounds. No WONDER I feel so tired, achy, and heavy all the time. I mean, I’m 6 feet tall so 170 is not really that unusual, especially at 8.5 months pregnant. The heaviest I ever managed with my previous pregnancies was 165. Since this pregnancy has been light years worse than the other ones, I think it’s kind of impressive that I managed to gain more than ever before. What exactly do I eat, anyways? Still not sure.

Maybe I have no clue about weight in general, but I don’t think I look like I weigh 170 pounds, even as a 6 foot tall 8.5 month pregnant lady. That’s why my weight amuses me, especially when people want to talk about my stomach. I can surprise pretty much anyone by pulling out my weight gain. Say what? Half the people who feel the need to comment on my size say  “you’ve grown” or “you look bigger” and the other half say “you are small!” or “you are all belly!” I think all of these comments apply. Yes, I probably have grown and therefore look bigger, and that growth makes my puny un-muscled limbs look small, thus accentuating the ballooning belly. While I’m complimenting myself, I have to add that I am doing a stellar job of kindly accepting all kinds of comments without rude or cranky retorts. I have only snapped once at a belly comment this whole pregnancy, and I still feel bad about it (my poor mother in law).

Jeff has been joking for months about how I could be heavier than he is at some point during this pregnancy. I always said “you wish!” Then I hit 170. I guess we’ll see in the next 2 weeks whether or not his absurd dream comes true, ha ha. 

Peace out. I mean…2 WEEKS LEFT!