Here we are on the eve of 34 weeks and I will say it again, time is passing so quickly. I keep reading that time slows to a crawl near the end of pregnancy, but so far I have not experienced that. In fact, for me it has been the opposite. Maybe that will change when I quit working and have a lot of time on my hands. For now, I'm still waddling around Talbots about 20 hours a week. That changes next week when my hours are trimmed back to about 15 and then after that, well, I'm still undecided. I think I'll be done. Work really wears me out these days!
My nephew Nathan is still hospitalized, still struggling each day with severe pain and most recently, dangerously low levels of sodium. He was moved to the neurology ward and we are waiting to hear if the treatment is working. It is so difficult to be so far from home right now, with Nathan injured and hospitalized and Thanksgiving a couple of days away.
This will not be my first Thanksgiving away from home. At this point, I'm a veteran. The first Thanksgiving dinner I ever cooked was for 22 people. Trial by fire. This year's feast will be relatively easy with only one other couple coming to join us. I had thought about not inviting anyone and just enjoying Turkey Day with Greg since he's not likely to be with us next year during the holidays due to his pending deployment. But, the more I thought about it, the more I realized how absolutely lonely that would be. So, in the middle of the night last week after one of my many trips to the bathroom, I told Greg to go ahead and invite our friend Anthony and his wife. We have so much to be thankful for this year and it will be nice to have someone here to share in that.
In pregnancy news, well, I am huge. At least, I feel huge. Everyday it seems the lumpy bump continues to stretch (but no stretch marks yet, knock on wood) as this baby continues to grow. I have gained a total of 27 pounds. Yikes. My goal was to stay under 30 pounds but I think that is a bit unrealistic at this point. Maybe I can stay under 35.
Today, I made an appointment to meet with a pediatrician. I have to admit, I feel a bit uncomfortable "interviewing" a doctor but I want to make sure I make a good choice for our son.
Our nursery is pretty much done, except for a few small finishing touches. I love the way it has turned out. I still feel like I have a lot to do to prepare for our little guy, and sometimes my mind can't seem to stop making lists. But I know it will all get done and if not, that's OK too.
With Christmas fast approaching, I feel like I need to go ahead and get all my shopping done just in case this baby decides to arrive early. Plus, who wants to deal with all the crowds and craziness when they are nine months pregnant? Not me!
The heartburn is getting worse with each passing week. Seems like every night I end up sleeping at least a few hours on the couch where I can get the pillows just right and elevate my upper body enough to help alleviate the burn. It is a sad thing when water gives you heartburn.
And, even in all this happy baby joy, that same old dread still lurks, as evidenced by a horrible nightmare that had me crying and screaming in my sleep with Greg trying his best to wake me and convince me it was just a dream. When I finally realized that I was at home, safe and sound in my bed -- I immedately reached for my belly, somewhat unsure if my baby was still there or if the dream was real.
"You're OK," Greg said. "The baby is OK." And, like he knew Mama needed some reasurrance, our baby started to move right on cue. Such is the life of an infertile pregnant woman, I suppose.