10 things that suck at 37 weeks
1. Tying your shoes. As if you wear shoes that need tying at this point. Minnetonka mocs 4 life y'all.
2. Velcroing your toddler's shoes. Son of a bitch those little bastards are slippery, and trying to get him to sit on your lap, then trying to Stretch Armstrong your arms long enough to get to the end of his legs, which are now a good ten inches further away because he's sitting on your lap, which is also now a good ten inches deeper... By the time you're done, he's scratched your face like a feral cat and you're mouth breathing like Larry the Cable Guy running through sand.
3. Story time with your toddler, who used to sit quietly in your lap while you read to him in a soothing voice, but who now thinks of story time as "let's play bouncy castle hour." It's not enough that you have tiny little fetus elbows jabbing you from the inside... you have to deal with freakishly pointy 2-year-old elbows jabbing you from the outside too.
4. Sleeping on your side. Even if you're a side sleeper there comes a point when it's like seriously, I really want to lie on my back right now. Or rolling from side to side? You know how you used to do that without waking up? That's not the case anymore. Rolling from your left side to your right side requires you to engage every single muscle in your body and send up a prayer to a higher power. You have to wake up, prop yourself up on one elbow, roll from hips-down onto your back, roll your upper body onto your back, watching your bump as it kind of lags behind everyone else, like a backpack full of pudding strapped to your belly not quite tightly enough. Then you do the whole thing in reverse to get onto your other side. Also, you're mouth breathing, grunting, and potentially swearing. It sounds like you're moving a sofa. You're just moving your body. See also: why I'm not even going to discuss the idea of having sex at 37 weeks.
5. Trying to decide if you're going to just say, yes I would like a slice, or fuck it, give me the whole damn pie and leave the room so I can taste my shame in private.
6. Three way mirrors. Just... don't.
7. Pregnant chins. It's real. It's devastating.
8. Accepting that the house will never, ever be clean enough so that you can bring to life your Hollywood fantasy of bringing the baby home and welcoming him into a world of gleaming, dusted shelves, fresh bedsheets, and a fridge full of bottled waters with the labels all rotated to the front. Sorry kid. Looks like it's going to be stacks of mail on the desk, crumbs on the counter, and applesauce ground into the rug.
9. OH MY GOD am I going into labor? Oh, no, just really had to pee. WAIT, am I going into labor? Nope. Baby just punched my cervix. HOLY SHIT I THINK MY WATER JUST BROKE. Oh, no, just peed a little.
10. If it's your first time around, 37 weeks sucks because everyone is telling you it could be any day now, and no matter how much you tell yourself that it's probably going to be another month yet, you start to believe it, and then you start to get impatient, thinking that it will be so much easier to just have the damn baby already because at least when you have the baby you'll get your body back (by which I don't mean bikini body back. I mean just having ownership over your body again - you're looking forward to not sharing the actual boundaries of your skin with another creature who CLEARLY has strong opinions about the arrangement - or rearrangement - of your internal organs.)
It's my second time around, so 37 weeks sucks because everyone is telling me it could be any day now, and I believe them because it's a lot more likely the second time. And the impending birth is equal parts thrilling and terrifying. Because you KNOW that no matter how uncomfortable you are right now, having a newborn baby is way, way harder than being pregnant. (That, by the way, goes on the list of things you should never say to someone who's about to have her first baby. She'll figure it out soon enough. No need for you to play Mother Doomsday.) Do I look forward to getting your body back? Well... kind of. I know that I'll still have a baby on my body most of the time. It'll just be outside my body leaking fluid onto my clothes, instead of inside my body tap-dancing on my kidneys and bladder. That right there is a toss-up, friends.
Today I am wishing equally hard for the baby to be born, and for the baby to hold his horses just a little bit longer. I could use a few more nights of sleep. I could use a few more laughing dinners with my lovely little family of 3.
That being said. You want to know what's awesome at 37 weeks?
You're not at 38 weeks.
Come baby, come baby, come baby baby, come come...
2. Velcroing your toddler's shoes. Son of a bitch those little bastards are slippery, and trying to get him to sit on your lap, then trying to Stretch Armstrong your arms long enough to get to the end of his legs, which are now a good ten inches further away because he's sitting on your lap, which is also now a good ten inches deeper... By the time you're done, he's scratched your face like a feral cat and you're mouth breathing like Larry the Cable Guy running through sand.
3. Story time with your toddler, who used to sit quietly in your lap while you read to him in a soothing voice, but who now thinks of story time as "let's play bouncy castle hour." It's not enough that you have tiny little fetus elbows jabbing you from the inside... you have to deal with freakishly pointy 2-year-old elbows jabbing you from the outside too.
4. Sleeping on your side. Even if you're a side sleeper there comes a point when it's like seriously, I really want to lie on my back right now. Or rolling from side to side? You know how you used to do that without waking up? That's not the case anymore. Rolling from your left side to your right side requires you to engage every single muscle in your body and send up a prayer to a higher power. You have to wake up, prop yourself up on one elbow, roll from hips-down onto your back, roll your upper body onto your back, watching your bump as it kind of lags behind everyone else, like a backpack full of pudding strapped to your belly not quite tightly enough. Then you do the whole thing in reverse to get onto your other side. Also, you're mouth breathing, grunting, and potentially swearing. It sounds like you're moving a sofa. You're just moving your body. See also: why I'm not even going to discuss the idea of having sex at 37 weeks.
5. Trying to decide if you're going to just say, yes I would like a slice, or fuck it, give me the whole damn pie and leave the room so I can taste my shame in private.
6. Three way mirrors. Just... don't.
7. Pregnant chins. It's real. It's devastating.
8. Accepting that the house will never, ever be clean enough so that you can bring to life your Hollywood fantasy of bringing the baby home and welcoming him into a world of gleaming, dusted shelves, fresh bedsheets, and a fridge full of bottled waters with the labels all rotated to the front. Sorry kid. Looks like it's going to be stacks of mail on the desk, crumbs on the counter, and applesauce ground into the rug.
9. OH MY GOD am I going into labor? Oh, no, just really had to pee. WAIT, am I going into labor? Nope. Baby just punched my cervix. HOLY SHIT I THINK MY WATER JUST BROKE. Oh, no, just peed a little.
10. If it's your first time around, 37 weeks sucks because everyone is telling you it could be any day now, and no matter how much you tell yourself that it's probably going to be another month yet, you start to believe it, and then you start to get impatient, thinking that it will be so much easier to just have the damn baby already because at least when you have the baby you'll get your body back (by which I don't mean bikini body back. I mean just having ownership over your body again - you're looking forward to not sharing the actual boundaries of your skin with another creature who CLEARLY has strong opinions about the arrangement - or rearrangement - of your internal organs.)
It's my second time around, so 37 weeks sucks because everyone is telling me it could be any day now, and I believe them because it's a lot more likely the second time. And the impending birth is equal parts thrilling and terrifying. Because you KNOW that no matter how uncomfortable you are right now, having a newborn baby is way, way harder than being pregnant. (That, by the way, goes on the list of things you should never say to someone who's about to have her first baby. She'll figure it out soon enough. No need for you to play Mother Doomsday.) Do I look forward to getting your body back? Well... kind of. I know that I'll still have a baby on my body most of the time. It'll just be outside my body leaking fluid onto my clothes, instead of inside my body tap-dancing on my kidneys and bladder. That right there is a toss-up, friends.
Today I am wishing equally hard for the baby to be born, and for the baby to hold his horses just a little bit longer. I could use a few more nights of sleep. I could use a few more laughing dinners with my lovely little family of 3.
That being said. You want to know what's awesome at 37 weeks?
You're not at 38 weeks.
Come baby, come baby, come baby baby, come come...