96.1% there, but who’s counting?

For those of you who don’t actually do useless math in random cells of the excel spreadsheet you’re working on on a Monday afternoon,  96.1% there means we are 11 days away from this baby’s due date. Soon we will be within the number of days that it is grammatically correct to spell out the number (one through ten, as I’m sure you're aware) instead of use the numeral, which is when I’m assuming things start to feel “really real.”

I’m happy to report that I have not yet started to spiral into the physical and emotional mess that I was fully expecting to be by now.  I think my expectation of late pregnancy was that I would eventually get so uncomfortable in my own skin that I wouldn’t be able to stand it any longer, but so far I haven’t reached that point. Of course there’s still plenty of time for things to go downhill, so for now I’m just glad to be feeling relatively good.

 

And even though I’m feeling relatively good, I still get some aches and pains and moments where I feel pretty huge, particularly at the end of the day (when I need to get up to go to the bathroom at night, I may or may not ask Tim to literally push me out of bed if he’s still awake). However, Tim has developed a weird (and just slightly annoying) habit of complaining about his own aches and pains whenever I complain about something. It’s sort of ridiculous to the point that if you heard it, you would swear he was joking, but he’s not. Examples:

M: Ugh, I’m kind of getting a stomach ache.

T: Yeah my stomach hurts too, and I have a bad headache.  

M: Can you carry the laundry upstairs because my back is hurting?

T: My back has been bothering me all day I think I slept on it wrong, but I guess so. 

Like I said, you would think he has to be joking slash mocking me, but I promise he’s for real. Even though he somehow seems to complain even more than I do, I will give him credit for the fact that he rubs my back and feet pretty much every day. And he packs my lunch (plus like ten snacks) for me to take to work in the morning.  As long as he’s just as helpful when the baby comes, I guess he can complain all he wants. 

That pretty much sums things up at 38ish weeks pregnant. Oh I never put up a picture from our 36 week 3D sonogram, mostly because it didn’t come out very good, but since I don’t have any good pictures of the dogs to post this week I might as well throw it out there:

A little disappointing that all we got was half of a face and some pouty lips, but that’s okay because soon enough we’ll be seeing the live version!