36 weeks

Did you know that it was possible to be so stinkin' pregnant? 36 weeks just seems stupid and I've still got 4 weeks to go. Went back to the antenatal clinic today for my 36 week checkup and all is well - they took more blood and a swab of something for staphacocolooloobello ... I have no idea what it's for but I have a pamphlet I might want to crack open.

Young master Eisele is head down in position ready to go but he hasn't dropped yet so his feet are spending much of their time in my ribs, which makes me want to scream. I found out today that is back is facing to the left (which is totally fine by the way) so his little legs and arms are all over my right side. That explains why all my pain is over there and why I have to leeeean on everything like a certain young pug named Saffron. I'm thrilled that the little man is very active and healthy but he could cut down on his Kip-like kickboxing skills. Maybe he's got nunchucks in there.

I've started to call him Lebron because he feels ginormous to me like I'm smuggling Lebron James in my belly. Every time I see my doctor I expect him to say "Wow, you've got a sasquatch in there!" (sidenote: did you know that Australia has its own sasquatch legend called a Yowie? Odd.) But they all seem to think the baby is normal sized. Again, I feel like I should have put a little more research into this whole concept of pushing a full size baby out of my hoo-hah before I got pregnant. It seems a little less than pleasant now that it's around the corner.

We have still not settled on a name. We have one name but not sure if it will be first or middle and we basically have no clue what other name we want to put with it. It's a disaster - I'm so afraid that we're just going to shout out a name at the hospital and the poor boy's going to be stuck with it for the rest of his life. Poor sap.

Next week is my last week of work and while I'm going to miss my job for a year (why am I taking a year's maternity leave in this global economic crisis? I don't know.), I am finally ready to go. The commute is killing me because sitting up in a car and train aggravates both the weird sore spot on my back and encourages my inner ninja to start kicking me in the ribs. Luckily my chair at work leans way back so I can kick back in a very creepy manner and now that the lovely young lady who is taking my job is training, I just let her do my job while I hover over her shoulder telling her every move to make. She is going to love when I'm gone, poor thing!

Anyway, so basically there is still nothing new to report. All is still fine with baby and me. We got our gorgeous stroller finally (it's been stuck on a ship from New Zealand) and our nursery kinda looks like a nursery now but I still need to get our art on the walls. I'll aim to do that when I'm done working if the boy lets me have some time and energy before he decides to make his magnificent entrance.

I'll keep you posted ...

at least I'm awake

Yes, I'm still pregnant. Seems I may always be at this rate. I'm at 34 weeks now and there's really no update beyond the kid is still growing and so am I. There's my latest picture.

The fantastic part of this picture is that if you change my ballet flats to Doc Martens, this could be me in 8th grade trying my darnedest to recreate the lovely Bridget Fonda's role in Singles (I've even finally gotten the hair). God bless grunge. And Marcel pointed out that I apparently bought the same shirt for our little future rocker boy. I'm eating the apple to cover up my non made-up face as well as supplying great nutrients to the unborn one. Gold star mama.

We started our labour and parenting classes - last week was labour, tomorrow is parenting. I am now an expert in pain relief and the various positions of how to give birth. I was not aware that you had more options than the movie version of giving birth in bed. Oh no no, as I was squatting and leaning on a beanbag while Marcel massaged my back with a tennis ball and the lights were dimmed I found myself thinking "Yes, I can handle this giving birth nonsense." Something tells me when the real thing hits I'll forget all about the comfy positions and only focus on the drug lessons we learned. Bring them on.

I am exhausted if you haven't guessed. Only two more weeks of work I think, maybe three. And only six more weeks of pregnancy. I'll be glad to have my ligaments back in working, non-achy order. We have a 4-day weekend this weekend for Easter so I'm eager to get caught up on sleep and do little things like pack my bag for the hospital just in case I go early. I'd also kill to go a movie but there's absolutely nothing out worth seeing over here and my odd spot on my back hurts so bad in theatre seats that it's not worth the popcorn after all. Pregnancy is definitely a downer now & then.

I think I had other things to tell you but I can't remember them. Hmmmm ... we're still struggling with names. We settled on one but you know me, I can't stick to a decision if I make it too early so now I'm doubting that choice and we're back to trying out every name we hear on TV, radio or from random people. I have a feeling we'll have to decide in the hospital when we're looking at him and say "He looks like a potato." "What about Spud?" "It's perfect!" Apologies in advance to my son.