35 Weeks

And the countdown continues! 5 more weeks to go, and Baby-G weighs about 5+ pounds now. I've gotten some feedback from female friends that this chronicling has been useful/informative, and I'm very glad it's more than just an excess of navel gazing, because wow it's a lot of navel gazing. Unfortunately, this feedback has just encouraged me to take the over-sharing to the next level, since I've been putting off an entry regarding the more gross parts of pregnancy for the fear of scaring off my loyal readers. I'll throw in the caveat that every pregnancy is different, so what I'm experiencing is no guarantee of what you'll experience, or even what I'll experience for my second child. This is why I'm not particularly worried that re-reading these entries will scare me off from having any more children, as I'm starting to understand that all-of-this is totally worth it. Once again...if you're squeamish, you may want to stop reading this here.
Let's talk about fluids. When I first was reading about the different stages of pregnancy, a few of the women writers made a big deal about the fluids that end up coming out at one point or another, and I brazenly passed it off as normal female squeamishness about bodily functions. Can I just say I was wrong? Because wow, there are a lot of fluids involved, and I'm not even in labor. It's gotten to the point where I've wondered if my water has broken at least 3 times in the last month, and if I hadn't been reading other mom-blogs, I would think I was either completely abnormal and/or be going to the ER non-stop. Take your normal female output and multiply it by a factor of 10, and you'll understand why no preggo is going commando. The big guidebook o' pregnancy that the hospital gave us says that some extra fluid is your body preparing for the baby, i.e. baby-lube, but I think my body may need anxiety meds because it is definitely overdoing it. It also swings the other way once the baby is born, and then you suffer from vaginal dryness. Yay. Most of the time, bodies amaze me by being such intricate, finely integrated systems...but this time I'm thinking "WTF body?" New this week and also in the fluids category - swollen hands and feet, unless I spend a large portion of the day horizontal. I'm no longer wearing my wedding ring, so if you see this, don't start worrying we're in trouble. As C says, "It's pretty obvious you're taken."
I finally packed a bag for the hospital. I've been itching to do so since week 30, but I thought that would be a bit crazy, so I waited. Now that it's packed, I feel much more prepared and ready to go, though I'll probably still be thinking "I need to go get some soft ginger chews!" when the time comes. I spent about 30 minutes going "Awwwwww" when picking out the possible outfits that Baby-G will come home in, because they're just that cute and tiny, and I packed multiple outfits in case she's early, normal, or huge. And then I sat down and wondered who I'm turning into for the hundredth time. Regarding the aforementioned fluids, bag-packing guides on the internet say a variety of things about how much of your stuff you should pack, and how much you should just use the hospital's, and basically it all boils down to this: will you still want your stuff back if fluids get on it? And in this case, I'm using fluids as a very general term meaning some combination of blood, mucus or other secretions, amniotic fluid, piss, poop, and meconium - which gets it's own designation because when they say it's black, tarry, and staining, they really mean it. If so, you should bring it, and if not, you shouldn't. This applies to towels, pillows, robes, clothing, and even socks. (I'm bringing C's socks. He needs new ones anyways.) In general, most people seem to agree that bringing your own pillows is worthwhile, as it's hard to sleep on the hospital's plastic-covered pillows (see earlier discussion on fluids), and you obviously need your sleep, but my conclusion is that you shouldn't bring expensive or valued things as they may never be the same*. I used to assume that you could sequester your good stuff from the dreaded fluids, but these guides seem to laugh at that idea, so I'll have to keep you posted on that part. When I went to the store to pick out a supply of pads for post-baby bleeding/healing, I was tempted to get the Depends that one woman had recommended, but I couldn't bring myself to do it. This is a sign that I still haven't let go of the pre-kid tendency to try and hold onto your dignity. Did you know they now make Depends in orange? In case white is too diaper-like, I think. They call it "soft peach".
*This probably applies to most stuff that you own pre-kids - it may or may not survive the next phase of your life.
As the last insult to dignity today, I'm going to talk a small bit about hemorrhoids. Unfortunately, the internet says they're very common during pregnancy, especially during the third trimester. There's not much you can do about them besides pop the baby out, so hopefully they aren't painful. And that's about all I can say. My blog = best birth control method developed yet. But hopefully, you can read about all-of-this without being too scared off from pregnancy, because you shouldn't be. Like I said earlier, there's no guarantee what your version of it will be like, just like everything else in life. There's no way to predict if you're fertile, going to be a good parent**, or going to have an easy time of it until you try. You may have a much harder first trimester, and a much easier third. Or you may have smooth sailing all the way through. (Those women don't tend to write blogs, though, because of the hate mail.) Remember, I still want y'all to have kids someday. Soon, preferably, so mine will have cool playmates. Otherwise we'll get the movie Idiocracy, and we already have people in this country feeding their babies Mt. Dew.
**Hint: If you're worried about it, you'll be a fine parent. Bad parents don't worry about being bad - that takes self-awareness.