Happy Stinkin' Birthday....

Well, between the lack of sleep, contractions and the general discomforts of being 9 months pregnant, I can say that this probably isn't the best birthday ever. And while every one's prayers worked and Dustin has a 2nd interview with UPS...it is this evening. So it looks like the only man taking me out on my birthday will be my dear son (who is still upset it is not his birthday).

Friday's doctor's appointment went well, I guess. I am measuring 46 weeks pregnant. Wow. Baby's heartbeat was in the 130's, my blood pressure was still a wee-bit high and of course, I gained a few pounds. I now weigh more than I did when I got pregnant. Boo! I was really hoping to not top that weight, but what-cha gonna do? I was sent over to labor and delivery for a quick non-stress test because baby has been very inactive lately.

We headed over to Mercy and they got me all hooked up to the monitor. The nurse asked if there was more than one in there. I said no, and her response was, "Well, this one's gonna be a big one!" Really? Thought never crossed my mind.

Anyway, we figured out why my stomach feels like I've been beaten up most of the time: baby is posterior. Basically, it's spine is against my spine and the legs, feet and arms are all punching and stretching straight out into my weak stomach muscles.

While I was in the hospital bed I started to get a little freaked out - which my weekly updates say is completely normal. The excitement of the impending arrival is quickly becoming over-shadowed by the memories of pain and that feeling every new mother feels - like your body is no longer your own. To me, that's the scariest feeling in the world.

From my experience with Josh I know that the pain and everything else doesn't matter once you get to hold your child. Nonetheless, the whole "ignorance is bliss" from my first delivery is not looking so bad right now.

Dustin informed me this weekend that while he was sorry I was so uncomfortable he enjoys this point in pregnancy. Why? Because I'm not wanting to do much other than sit and that means we're not doing projects every minute of the day. Thanks, sweety. Love you, too.

Josh got a new scooter this weekend. He is very proud of it and demanded that we also get a helmet so he doesn't hurt his head. Of course we went ahead and got him a helmet, knee pads and elbow pads because just my luck he'd crack his head open and we'd be in the emergency room and he'd be yelling, "I told you I needed a helmet, mom. I told you."



Even with all that protection he still managed to hurt one delicate, unprotected area. Poor thing. He fell to the ground and the handle bars came down like a hammer from Whack-a-mole. One ice bag and ten minutes later all was fine.