Well, it finally happened. I had my hormone-induced (please, Lord, let that have been hormone-induced) pregnancy melt down. Yesterday, while walking around and making my way through our typical Sunday routine, I heard from many a stranger about what I can and can't do because I'm pregnant, about how pregnant I really look, about how much labor is going to hurt, about how my life will change when the baby arrives. At the farmers market, when the seven millionth woman looked at me, asked me when I'm due, pointed to her loud, obnoxious kids and said, "Good luck. It's crazy," my flip switched. I came home,
laid down on our bed, and started crying. Hysterically crying. Ugly, gasping-for-air crying.
Michael immediately came to my side to start comforting me, and in about three minutes we were both laughing at how ridiculous these tears were (okay, maybe closer to five minutes...). Our lives are certainly about to be upended, but as Michael keeps reminding me, it will be fun! And we'll have a little one to share the insanity with!
I feel insanely big now, and pretty uncomfortable. I'm ready for this little girl to come on out and meet the world. She's officially full-term, which is thrilling. Of course, our doctors office doesn't induce until you are 42-weeks along, which is still FIVE weeks away. That is utterly terrifying. But I'm hoping she decides to join us sooner, rather than later, now that she's done baking and is focused on getting big.
So here's me at 37-weeks:
And, when I finally dried my eyes and calmed down yesterday, I realized Michael was making headway on the baby's room! He washed all our baby supplies, so they are ready to cloth and comfort our girl. And he got our crib all set up to look like this:
It doesn't get much cuter!