(why yes, I am in my workout clothes with the paint all over them)
How far along? 32 weeks — 8 months. Holy. Shit. Sheffield is about the size of a honey dew melon.
Weight gain? Right at 27 pounds. Did I just admit online that I’ve gained 27 pounds? Yerp. I will tell you that until I saw pictures of myself this past weekend, I didn’t really feel that huge, but wouldn’t you know that my face is swelling, and hot damn, I do look pregnant! I am starting to worry if I’ll ever get back to the way I looked pre-pregnancy. Which, whatever, you can call me selfish for, but I worked really hard to get where I was before my little guy got there. I have learned though that looking through my weekly photos is not good and just makes it worse. I will say that my changing body has been the toughest thing for me in my pregnancy.
I’m feeling: Anxious and scared. And not ready. I had a mini breakdown and again, thank goodness for Nadine, because she again had to talk me down. I warned her that it may become a weekly thing from here on out. You just want everything to be perfect and right, even though you know it won’t be, and sometimes that is a tough reality to swallow. But I know that with having amazing friends like Nadine around that I’ll be able to get through it.
Symptoms?: Swelling — mostly in my ankles and feet. Not sleeping (of course), and only a few instances of heartburn. Nothing too severe though. I’ve also started to get those leg cramps at night, although they don’t last too long at all.
Movement: Homeboy can move. He’s most active in the morning, right after I work out and at night. Especially if (ha, when) I get up to use the bathroom in the middle of the night, he’ll start kicking like a madman. I like it though, because I know that he’s growing.
Miss anything?: Mimosas!! We went to brunch this past weekend with my dad, and I really really really wanted one. Missing being able to work out hard and not sleeping on an incline.
Nursery: Waiting on a few things, but all the major things are done. Hallelujah.
Dad is: calm. Like, why the eff is dad so CALM?? I want to be calm!! I guess one of us has to be, or we’d both go nuts. I’m thankful for this guy for being able to be so normal during all of this. Of course he’s not the one pushing anything out of anywhere, either.
Sheffield — 8 more weeks. Let’s do this thing.