Okay, so I’m technically still a day away from the official 36 week mark, but I just so happened to have five extra seconds today to snap a photo of myself and I figured I should probably take advantage of it.
So. I’m thisclose to being 36 weeks, and some days I feel great, and others I feel like a narcoleptic beached whale. Everywhere I go, people are still commenting on how I look — mostly of the “You poor thing. You look like you’re ready to explode” variety, but I’ve really stopped caring. You’re right, people, I DO feel ready to explode. I’ve gained 33 pounds. My belly skin is all stretched out and itchy, I officially waddle, and I haven’t been able to gracefully bend over to pick dropped things off the ground for many weeks.
(Plus, Orion was born at 37 weeks, so it’s blowing my mind a little to think I could have a newborn in a matter of days — although I don’t think the same scenario will play out again this time.)
It’s all starting to feel very real to me. And you know what? I think I’m ready.