I’m 9 months pregnant.  Half of me is shocked there will be a human here soon.  The other half of me is shocked at how long I was pregnant.  Sheesh!  I’ve been pregnant since June!  The better part of a year!  I think you’re pregnant this long so you can mentally prepare for the dramatic lifestyle change of taking care of a small helpless human that can’t survive without you.  (No, I’m not prepared, to answer your question.)

I’m about to get real with where I’m at in these final days and weeks.  What that involves is some squeamish topics involving bodily functions and medical procedures.  These may be TMI for those of you who do NOT want a child, partners who would prefer to not know the details, people who want to have a child but are on the fence about it, and others that fall into categories like this.  WARNING. Stop reading now.

For those of you who are ready to read the gory details of this final stage…  Here goes.  Let me start by reiterating, I LOVE BEING PREGNANT.  I genuinely don’t want to stop being pregnant.  I love the way I feel, I love the way I look, I love this hard little baby butt protruding from the upper right-hand quadrant of my belly… I love love love it.  I feel like I’m going to be sad when I go back to my traditional 6-pack.  Of beer.  Obviously.  Still would love to be a surrogate right after this or have a billion more babies.

A list of some current Pain Points:

• I can’t wipe my butt good.  It’s really becoming a struggle.  Between the wild carpal tunnel in my wrist, hands and fingers, the belly in the way, the twisting that isn’t possible…  I feel like the only effective wipe job I can do is to get in the shower.  So that’s shitty.  (See what I did there?)

• I have 3 pairs of shoes that fit.  One is a pair of bulky winter boots. One is a pair of Vince white tennis shoes.  The third is a pair of strappy gala-type shoes.  I can’t really tie the tennis shoes well.  I throw my foot on top of my knee and then tie it on the side, then repeat with the other foot. Bending to the shoe is not an option.  It’s too late for me to invest in any other shoes, sorry.  This is what you get. 

• I don’t like getting my cervix checked.  Also, I have conducted formal scientific research while getting my cervix checked over the past couple of weeks.  One of my cervix checks was a man, the other was a woman.  I prefer the man.  Long fingers get him to the cervix quicker without having to shove his whole hand up in there.  I thought I was going to prefer the small dainty hand woman, but her fingers were too short so she had to get all up in there and I hate her.  Overall, I don’t prefer getting my cervix checked and will decline this service going forward.  Thank you.

• I guess I pee my pants now.  Gone are the glamorous days of dating while pregnant and feeling sexy.  This shit is getting real.  I have one pair of jeans that fit and that I feel comfortable and beautiful in.  They get washed every couple of days. Last week I put them on fresh out of the dryer onto my body and then I coughed.  A little pee came out.  I was surprised, and then I coughed again.  More pee.  The third cough made it so that when I peed a third time it was more pee than I’m comfortable sitting in and showing off to the public.  I didn’t have time before my next event to wash them a second time, so I threw them in the dryer and just dried the pee to the pants.  Dry Pee Pants.  Done.  This is life now.

• I’m up to 26 pounds gained.  I’m RAVENOUS for food and have an INSATIABLE thirst.   I drink all the drinks and eat all the food.  My underchin is starting to fill out nicely.  And by nicely, I mean I’m getting a gobble-gobble turkey neck. 

• My vivid sex dreams have pivoted to vivid worry nightmares.  I also vividly fight with people who love me in my dreams.  I’m still sleeping like a world-class award-winning sleeper at 100% sleep quality, but my dreams have really taken a turn for the worst.  I almost called my mom this morning to apologize.  But it was just a dream.  They are all just dreams.  I miss the sexy ones.  Those were cool. 

• People tell me that I don’t look 9 months pregnant so I do take that as a compliment. Even though I love when pregnant people look like they have a torpedo coming out of their belly. Everyone comments that I’m not waddling yet.  Well, I am an athlete, so I’m pretty quick and balanced on my feet so that’s just never going to happen.  You know when someone parks too close to you and you must shove yourself in?  Well, that’s not a thing you can do with a baby belly.  I actually climbed up and over the seat and Superman-ed my way into the drivers seat the other day, much to the horror of my friends who were in the car.  (Best designated driver in the world up in here!)  Again, I’m an athlete.  Nothing holds me down. 

• I’m SO HOT.  I can’t sleep in clothes.  I can’t sleep with people.  I can’t sleep with the dog.  Sushi now knows she better relocate herself to the furthest corner of the bed because I will kick her off so fast she won’t know what hit her.  When I’m at home alone, there are not many clothes on my body.  I’m happy I didn’t buy a maternity winter coat because I NEED to have my coat open no matter how cold it is.  In fact, I’m sitting in a café writing this and it’s snowing outside and I didn’t bring a coat with me. And I don’t care. Now I’m editing at home and it’s 44 degrees outside and I have my windows wide open. 

• I’ve started slowing down a little though, I will admit.  I’m trying to wrap up or consolidate and delegate some projects at work, which you can imagine for a control freak is difficult.  I keep having to remind myself that people do this all the time and the world won’t fall apart because I’m off for a few months.  My amazing colleague who is babysitting my email and accounts while I’m gone literally said to me in front of our boss… “It is my absolute honor to do this for you.  I’ve gone through this, and most women will go through this and it’s our responsibility to each other to make sure no one ever has to feel bad.” *Insert tears of gratefulness pouring down my face for such an amazing teammate here*

• Still haven’t looked into childcare.  (Yeah, I know, I know, I’m screwed) My plan is to find a college kid for over the summer.  Or a nanny share.  Or a mix of daycare and other care.  Or a stay at home mom that wants to make a couple extra bones once in a while.  Ug.  Must. Focus. On. Procurement. Of. Childcare.

Well, that’s where I’m at!  My bag is packed.  Car seat installed.  Ride to hospital secured.  (My best building buddy has labeled himself “The Water Boy” and is demanding I call him if my water breaks at home because he wants to take me to the hospital.)  Or an Uber.  Or my 3^rd Ward Neighborhood Friends have all been notified they are on standby.  Sushi knows something is about to change.  (She loves the nursery and spends a lot of time sniffing things and exploring and trying to play with the baby’s toys).  I’m still trying to YOLO and say yes to almost everything because… life is about to change I’m told. 

Thanks for being on this journey with me!  Next time you read a blog post of mine, hopefully it will be a story of sleepless nights and live baby butts.