The importance of comfort

I have set off in a quest for comfort. Never in my life have I just wanted to be comfortable as much as now. It's a slippery slope. The first indication came while shopping for practical shoes. I was looking for flat shoes because after cooking all day in little heels on Christmas, I realized I would have to say goodbye to any type of shoe that had a raised heel.

Next was the underwear. My cute lacy numbers began to be replaced at first with some cute lacy maternity thongs from Old Navy, and has since been supplemented with full coverage "granny panties," which I'm told will be necessary for after delivery. If you know me well, you would understand how heartbreaking it is to succumb to this purchase.

Which leads me to the next heartbreaking purchase of a nursing bra. Let's face it, it's a hassle to shop for cute bras at my size anyway. Well my size is no longer my size and with whatever ounce of pride I do have left, I refuse to buy some long term solution here. So the practical solution is to graduate to a nursing bra right now, hoping my girls will decide to go back to their original size within the next year or so. I know, how very optimistic of me. If you've ever seen a nursing bra, you know that this contraption is purely for practical intentions. There is nothing cute about it. Period.

(I'm sure I've lost most of my reading audience, if not just my grandpa here.)

Moving on to the outerwear... I finally resigned to getting new (roomier) maternity pants, which I might just wear every single day until this baby comes. These pants ROCK and I highly recommend them to anyone who is addicted to the BellaBand as I am.

And last, but the most important part of my comfort has been sleep. I have yet to find a solution to this. I have found that the only comfortable place to sit is in the new recliner we got a few weeks ago. I have a better understanding of why my father (may he rest in peace) loved his recliner so much that he had resorted to duct taping the arm rest and various other places of the frayed fabric, instead of just going out and getting a new one, much to my mom's and my embarrassment. I might just have to start sleeping on the recliner, because even with a CalKing bed, I've managed to build a trench around myself with pillows to support my back, my hips, my belly and my head. I'm running out of room, and Rick has donated all but one of his pillows to my cause.

As I sit here in my ugly intimates and stretchy, comfy jeans, on my recliner, I can tell you that my priorities have shifted big time in the comfort department. Someone will have to remind me--postpartum--that this will need to be nipped into the bud at some point. One day I will want to revert back to lacy bras and thongs, clothing that requires a constant abdominal workout by sucking it in all the time, and cute heels that leave blisters after five minutes of wear but look damn good with that outfit. Right?

Exhaustion

I have been so tired the last few days. I feel like I've been hit by a bus, and the part of my brain that controls large and fine motor skills has been damaged, along with balance and the ability to walk like a normal person and not a penguin or duck.

I guess this mental part is what they call pregnancy brain; something I refused to believe would ever happen to me. I have successfully screwed up dinner 3 times in the last week, something I think that Rick has even noticed and is now asking me if I need help making dinner. I used to think I could make dinner with a blindfold and one hand tied behind my back. Now I'm lucky if I come home from the grocery store with anything I had written on the list. Eating has taken on a new form of entertainment too. Let's see how many items end up on the front of Cara's top, or down her shirt. And believe me, it’s not that fun fishing things out of the top if they've dropped down there. That is, when it's even noticed. I actually had crumbs stuck between my bra and belly at my last Dr. appointment. To my horror, the crumbs were discovered when I lifted my top to be measured. Not easy to justify weight gain when there is plain as day evidence of cookie crumbs for your Dr. to see.

As for the walking, er, waddling...another thing I thought could never happen. Believe me, I try so hard not to waddle. It's embarrassing! But somehow during this alien transition, my lower half decided to take on a whole new persona and I guess I'm just stuck with it. These are all mere observations, mind you. It may sound like complaints but I really wouldn't trade these temporary (oh please god, let them be temporary) conditions for anything in the world, because it all just means I'm getting closer to having this baby. I really hope to look back on all this and laugh, but right now it just takes too much energy (yawn).

32 weeks

Tying up loose ends

I was doing some reflection on how far along I've come from the very beginning of the pregnancy. Scary times! I realized in reading through some of the posts that I had some unanswered questions still out there (see below). At my last appointment, my Dr. asked if I was ready to have this baby. My heart skipped a beat and I almost thought she meant AM I READY NOW?!? But she meant had I taken all the classes and picked a pediatrician and all that other stuff. The answer is no. But I'm working on it now. As far as classes, the one I really want to have beforehand is Infant CPR. I figure if I can rent a few videos on childbirth preparation and newborn care, then I think we're in good shape.

Maternity clothes
You know how I couldn't imagine ever fitting into those pants they make, the ones with the big butt and hips? Well, I have arrived. It was a sad day of realization, but nothing like a brownie fudge sundae to make it all better. Could be why I've ended up in those pants afterall.

Glucose screening test
I passed! Eating very well and cutting out carbs and sugar for one whole torturous day beforehand, including the 12 hour fast, really did pay off!

Countdown to baby drop

We picked up the crib and changing table from Scott and Dione's (THANKS!). Major score, as Dione will admit to you that they have both rarely, if ever, been used for their actual purpose. I'll spare my snide comments on that one and let you visit her blog if you want to read the details of how two little girls managed to avoid sleeping in the crib, among other things (snicker, snicker). Anyway, I'd have to say we are in pretty good shape over here! So the countdown begins. I start to see my Dr. every 2 weeks now, beginning tomorrow. 10 weeks doesn't seem that long at all anymore.

30 weeks