10 things that suck at 39 weeks
1. When people cut in line and have their babies before you even though they were due after you. Those ladies are OUT of the sisterhood, y'all. If you're due after June 7, hold it in. I've done my time.*
2. Every night you "have a feeling" that "it's going to be tonight."
3. Every morning you "have a feeling" that "you're never going to have this baby, ever, no exaggeration."
4. At the grocery store you put green bananas in your cart and you think, "by the time these are ripe, I'll have a new baby." Then they get ripe.
5. When the baby kicks, you might feel it in your abdomen. Or you might feel it in what we'll call your swimsuit area. Come over and I'll point to the spot on a doll where I feel this baby kicking most of the time.
6. Sleeping only gets harder.
7. The devastating stories people ONLY TELL REALLY PREGNANT WOMEN. They always end with, "if the baby had only been born one day earlier..." or "if only she'd insisted on one more ultrasound..." or "she had a feeling something wasn't right, but..." I will cut you if I see from the tilt of your head and your sad-smile mouth that you're about to dive into one of these. I don't need that in my kitchen right now.**
8. Wearing pants only gets harder. It is LITERALLY all uphill for the waistband of your pants. Cue the pregnant jeans saggy diaper butt.
9. You have to leave a voicemail every time you call your mom or she calls you back in a panic and says "Oh my GOD I thought you were in labor." Nope. Just calling to tell you what I ate for breakfast. Bagel, FYI.
10. Labor is real. And it's just over that hill. And you can hear it sharpening its spear.
But you know what doesn't suck about 39 weeks pregnant?
Ya not 40 weeks pregnant.
* But seriously, I'm incredibly happy for my friends who have had healthy babies and haven't had to do the 39 week waddle. I'm jealous, but I'm mostly happy. Like 80/20 happy-jealous. OK, 70/30.
** The loss of a child is devastating and eternal. Those stories deserve to be told, to remember and cherish the life that was cut too short, and to comfort the families who have survived. I would be honored to share those memories. Just not now. Please don't tell me a true story about my worst nightmare while my defenses are, like, completely nonexistent. I'm a turtle sans shell right now. Please don't hurt me.
2. Every night you "have a feeling" that "it's going to be tonight."
3. Every morning you "have a feeling" that "you're never going to have this baby, ever, no exaggeration."
4. At the grocery store you put green bananas in your cart and you think, "by the time these are ripe, I'll have a new baby." Then they get ripe.
5. When the baby kicks, you might feel it in your abdomen. Or you might feel it in what we'll call your swimsuit area. Come over and I'll point to the spot on a doll where I feel this baby kicking most of the time.
6. Sleeping only gets harder.
7. The devastating stories people ONLY TELL REALLY PREGNANT WOMEN. They always end with, "if the baby had only been born one day earlier..." or "if only she'd insisted on one more ultrasound..." or "she had a feeling something wasn't right, but..." I will cut you if I see from the tilt of your head and your sad-smile mouth that you're about to dive into one of these. I don't need that in my kitchen right now.**
8. Wearing pants only gets harder. It is LITERALLY all uphill for the waistband of your pants. Cue the pregnant jeans saggy diaper butt.
9. You have to leave a voicemail every time you call your mom or she calls you back in a panic and says "Oh my GOD I thought you were in labor." Nope. Just calling to tell you what I ate for breakfast. Bagel, FYI.
10. Labor is real. And it's just over that hill. And you can hear it sharpening its spear.
But you know what doesn't suck about 39 weeks pregnant?
Ya not 40 weeks pregnant.
* But seriously, I'm incredibly happy for my friends who have had healthy babies and haven't had to do the 39 week waddle. I'm jealous, but I'm mostly happy. Like 80/20 happy-jealous. OK, 70/30.
** The loss of a child is devastating and eternal. Those stories deserve to be told, to remember and cherish the life that was cut too short, and to comfort the families who have survived. I would be honored to share those memories. Just not now. Please don't tell me a true story about my worst nightmare while my defenses are, like, completely nonexistent. I'm a turtle sans shell right now. Please don't hurt me.