I used to be a total morning person. We are talking "go to the gym at 5 in the morning" type of morning person. For the past year and a half (thanks thyroid), I can't get my lazy bones out of the bed to save my life.
But for the past couple of weeks, the thought of rolling over one more time is just too much to handle. So I've been getting up at more of a morning person appropriate time.
That meant 5:50 this morning.
So I got ready, made breakfast and did some laundry. Because I'm crazy like that. And then I still got to work 20 minutes early. Just in time to find out that my coworker's wife had had her baby.
Insert insane bits of jealousy. I managed to not cry, so we will count it as a win for me.
At this point, I feel pretty bad for Phil. You see... I had a doctor's appointment yesterday. And while I was hoping to hear, "Oh my gosh! Your baby is practically half-way birthed!" instead I heard, "The baby has actually gone further up than down and your uterus is like Fort Knox."
Ok that's not really what she said. But that's basically the message I took away.
But you know the doctor knows it's not the best news to tell a very pregnant woman when she also follows the "you're not dilated at all" news with several lines of "this doesn't mean labor is far away" and "I just had a mom in your same situation" type of statements.
The main remedy? Brisk walking.
So that's what Phil and I did last night. He took ahold of both dogs and we went for the longest walk to the pharmacy ever. We must have been quite the sight to see. And if I had been thinking about anything other than my ascending child, I probably would have taken some pictures. Basically, it was me waddling down the sidewalk as fast as my swollen feet would go with Phil essentially cross-country skiing with our dogs that act like they have never been on a leash in their lives. Taylor also managed to poop like 4 times, each time just as we were too far away from a garbage can to justify going back.
We are never taking both of them on a walk again.
So after we returned home, Phil got to deal with his super swollen, sweaty, emotional "I'm going to be pregnant forever" wife. I'm sure it is just what he needed with the week we've had.
The plus side... my coworkers have been commenting on how well I am handling the end of my pregnancy. So at least I am able to hold together some professional demeanor in the work place. And that's good because I'm about to start wearing sweatpants and Phil's shirts to work.
If you need me, I'll be out walking/waddling.
PS - If you google "pregnant forever" you'll get a lot of pictures of Jessica Simpson. Like this one:
That strangely makes me feel better.