31 Weeks

Meant to get this post up two weeks ago. Whoops.

Here are some pictures of "the belly" at 31 weeks.

Love that sneaky little uninvited hand.

I've decided that wearing dresses is most comfortable when this far along in pregnancy. However, maybe not the most flattering.

Today I am actually 33 weeks and 3 days. This is how at least ten conversations, today alone, went.

Student: Dang, Mrs. Smith, when are you gonna have that baby? (The more direct students started with this: Look at your belly! Are you about ready to have it or what?)
Me: Well, my estimated due date is June 1, so we're possibly at least seven weeks away.
Student: Wow. It looks like you're ready to pop at any time.
Me: *thinking to myself* Why, yes, I do realize I'm HUGE. Thanks so much for bringing to my attention that everyone else realizes this too. (re-read with sarcasm in case you didn't the first time)

I'm super uncomfortable at this point. Physically my back has been giving me fits since early in the second semester. Add to that the arrival of heartburn and a growing bony fetus and my body gets worn down fast. Spending too much time thinking about the fact that my due date is still seven weeks away makes me quite depressed and emotional. The emotional hormones are off the charts right now. I don't remember being so quick to cry with Gabe at this stage. I remember a lot of moodiness after his delivery, but not really before.

I had a very embarrassing emotional meltdown in the doctor's office last week because I had to wait an hour and a half past my appointment time to see the doctor. I was frustrated because no one communicated to me that he was running so far behind until an hour into the wait when I asked. Unfortunately, the receptionist, nurse, and doctor got an earful for it. I did tell the nurse, through my tears, "I know the crying is just hormones, but it would have been really nice if someone could have just communicated that the doctor was behind." She made sure to point out that neither she nor the office staff have any control over the timing of appointments and that it was all up to the doctor. I wonder how often they get emotional meltdowns after asking a question as simple as, "And, how are you today?" I'm betting that in an office that treats women for a variety of gynecological related issues that is often a dangerous question.

Casey's been great through all the emotional episodes. He just lets me vent and then asks what he can do to help. He gets that I feel crappy and frustrated about not being able to do everything around the house that I want to. When I overdo things my body pays for it for days after. This weekend was one of those overdoing times because of the yard sale, but I'm so glad I was able to have it pre-baby arrival. The house feels lighter and more organized already and I made a little extra cash doing it. Win-win. I find that with the approaching arrival of number two I am concentrating on becoming more organized than ever. I'll need the space and sanity that organization provides once the baby's here.

If this post sounded like I was being a serious debbie-downer it's probably because I feel like one! I am exhausted at the end of the school day and come home to a house that needs attention. I've always tried to tell like it is on this old blog and today's post is a real look at how I'm feeling lately.

And, to top it off, this happened today. This weekend my parents brought the infant cradle with them out of storage from their house. My plan was to have the baby sleep in it until he was ready for the crib (hopefully after he's sleeping through the night). As I was pushing the cradle from the dining room to the back bedroom one of the legs snapped in half. The cradle is on wheels and we pushed it around the house many times when Gabe was a baby without  a problem. Then, today I was barely pushing it and the leg just decides to snap in half? Seriously? Ugh. Casey says he can fix it. I hope so.

Welp, if you've made it this far in the post bravo for you. You just listened to a lot of self therapy. You call it a blog post, I call it a place to record my thoughts, feelings, and memories...aka self therapy.

I feel better already. Forty-five days to due date. I can do this. I can.