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And finally the literature (by which I mean emails from pregnancy websites) agrees with me, I am in the third trimester. The home stretch! Holy nuts! In as few as 10 weeks (or as many as 14 – boo) I will have a brand new human being to take care of! I’m not at all nervous. Nor does it feel at all bizarre. In case you haven’t been trained to spot sarcasm, that was it. It feels very strange to know that a little human is going to come out of me, and that I will then be entirely responsible for its survival. Wowsers.

This week lil’ L is the size of an eggplant – oooo! ahhhh! She weighs roughly 2 & 1/2 pounds and is almost 15 inches long. Still smaller than my cats. In fact, when she’s born she will probably still be smaller than my cats. They’re pretty big cats. According to all of everything I ever see, hear, or read about pregnancy (and it’s quite a bit), my baby could now survive outside the womb if she were to be born this prematurely, but it would be much better to try to keep her in until at least 37 weeks. Um, really? As if there’s anything I can do about it! I’ve never felt less in control of anything in my life.  I guess I COULD stop all of that horseback riding and jogging I’ve been doing. And maybe lay off the Pitocin. Seriously. I pretty much spend my days sitting on my butt or lying on my side because it’s too hot to do anything, I can barely walk, and I’m too tired to get off my ass.

I can tell that the baby is getting bigger because the kicks are getting stronger. Sometimes they aren’t even kicks, it feels like she’s just rolling over or something and jabbing me in the stomach along the way. When she lodges herself down in my lower pelvic region its difficult to walk. And AND sometimes she does one of her kung fu moves on my bladder with so much force and so quickly that even if I just went to the bathroom I’m in danger of wetting myself. Not cool, baby. Not cool. Other than that things are okay. I’m totally exhausted all of the time, even though I sleep roughly 10 hours a night. Okay, let me rephrase that. I’m in bed roughly 10 hours a night – who knows how much time is lost with the getting up and peeing. And with the waking up with shooting pains in one or both hips and having to heave myself over onto my other side. Yeah. I’m not sleeping well. Therefore, I am tired. It could be worse, though. And probably will be. This is, afterall, the trimester that is known for such delightful symptoms as Braxton Hicks contractions and leaky boobs. Party!

We went to our first of 2 childbirth classes this week. Surprisingly, despite watching videos of such things as women in labor, women having contractions, women pushing, and even the final seconds where the baby popped out, I’m still not that nervous. The teacher asked how many of us were planning on going natural and not at all surprisingly I was the only one who raised her hand. A few people snickered, a few people glared. I’m sure the snickerers think I’m crazy and that I’ll never pull it off. I’m sure the glarers are those competitive women who feel like I’m trying to make them feel inadequate. People get so touchy about stuff. Listen, I hate drugs. They tend to affect me more strongly than other people (I slept for nearly 2 days straight after being anesthetized to have my wisdom teeth out – no hyperbole). And, more importantly, I hate HATE HATE needles more than you can possibly imagine. Hate them. Especially ones that are being jammed into my spine. And once you get an epidural you’re sort of confined to bed. I’m more interested in being able to shift positions, perhaps wander around my room a little bit – you dig? Plus, I’m pretty sure (but not 100% so don’t yell at me) that with an epidural you also have to be catheterized. I’ve had one of those before, and boy was it unpleasant. I like to be in charge of my own bodily functions.  UGH. I’d rather feel the pain of childbirth than experience all of that. So there! Aaaaaand I’ve gone off on a rant again. Sorry about it. Let’s get back to the childbirthing classes. The teacher also talked a lot about signs of premature labor and what to do. And how if your water breaks what sorts of colors are bad and how you should panic and scream and rush to the hospital if its one of the bad colors. Okay, not really, but honestly – that part scared me worse than childbirth. We have a second class next week. I’m sure it will be filled with more delightful topics like vaginal tearing and how labor can go horribly wrong. Can’t wait!

Tomorrow my mom is meeting me in St. George to bring all of the baby stuff I couldn’t drag home after my shower. I’m pretty excited. I heart my mom. We’re going to stay overnight since it’s a pretty long drive for her. Just the two of us chillin’ – we don’t get enough of that. Okay, sorry about the rant. See y’all next week.