33 Weeks


We made it another week!

33 Weeks was the week of heartburn. Did you know that water can give you heartburn? Did you know that you’re only allowed eating 7 Tums in a day, so some evenings you will find yourself feverishly waiting by the medicine cabinet until midnight because then the two Tums you eagerly scarf as soon as the clock strikes technically count towards tomorrows daily allowance instead of todays?

Look, I know that this is nothing new. In the first trimester pregnant ladies are all “Oooh, ahhhh, I feel nauseous.” and then in the second trimester they’re all “Oh man! I feel fantastic!” and then in the third trimester it’s all downhill to “Wahhhh, I have heartburn. And sausage feet. And gas.”

And here I am, wearing thin that same road, but seriously, these are stereotypes because they’re TRUE- I DO have heartburn. And sausage feet. And…well, I am a LADY so I’m not going to discuss the last one. Let’s just say that poor Gus is taking one for the team these days.

Speaking of that adorable hound, he will remember 33 weeks as the last week that he was allowed in our car (hopefully ever). Why? Because due to his massiveness and shedding and slobbery nature, my car looked like this:


I can’t even believe I’m showing you this. I mean, it’s so embarrassing and awful and truly doesn’t even begin to scratch the surface of the gross that was my car.

ANYWAY, let’s move on as a team, okay? All that disgustingness is in the past! THIS, my friends, is the future!

That right there is a clean car! And in that clean car is a car seat. For a baby. A car seat for a baby to sit in and ride around in. Outside of my body. Even though said baby is currently gestating inside of my body, this car seat is proof that that will not always be the case.

Do you understand what I am saying?

If so, you’re doing way better than we are because Adam and I took like twenty five minutes to digest this sight and I have walked right past my car in parking lots twice now because “My car has never been that clean and it certainly doesn’t have a carse- OH MY GOD.”


So poor Gus has been ousted from the car, and the lovely (and brave, and patient, and meticulous and long suffering) man who did the detailing work said that it was one of the worst dog-hair cars he had ever seen. And then he asked what breed Gus was so he could remember to never get one because he had never seen dog hair that was so difficult to remove.

(He may have also threatened us with bodily harm if he ever saw a dog head flopping out the backseat of our car ever again).

It was such a wonderful way to spend money and I’m not at all ashamed to say that some evenings I put on black pants and maybe even something made of wool and then I go and roll around in my clean car and sigh softly to myself.

It’s bliss. 


The exciting news of the week is that we have a date for my c-section. Did I tell you this already? No? Well, WE HAVE A DATE!

That date is October 5, 2012. Mark your calendars folks, it’s 28 days away! Also of note: October 5 is official James Bond day, just so you know. (Adam totally planned that).

On Friday we drive down to meet with the anesthesiologist who will be helping during the c-section, and apparently this ONE PERSON decides where I will be operated on, whether or not Adam can be in the room, whether or not I can breastfeed right after, plus a million of other things.

I’m hoping he/she is in a good mood and we can push some of my hippy ideas onto him/her. Do you think it’s inappropriate to try and bribe anesthesiologists with booze and/or fine chocolates? Because I am not above bribery. Bribery and tears are how I got this far and I’m not about to change now.

Anyway, aside from the heartburn, I’ve still been feeling good except for the fact that I am suddenly gaining a kajillion pounds a week. I currently weigh 137 lbs, for a total weight gain of 22 lbs. That total isn’t huge, but the fact that like 4 of those pounds have happened in the past week is. Maybe less cheese and more carrots? (“But I LOVE cheese”, she whines petulantly).

Going forward I am counting on Murphy’s Law working in our favour – since we have everything ready and waiting to go at a moments notice, I’m hoping the next 28 days will be boring and uneventful. (As opposed to if we were unprepared, in which case the baby would probably bust a move outta there like, today).

Adam is still on his cleaning/organizing/fixing kick, and I think Sarah hit the nail on the head when she said “He’s nesting!”

Except I guess for men, instead of washing baby clothes and hoarding cloth diapers, nesting includes doing a lot of work to your truck that looks like this:


Welding and drilling and…well I don’t know what else is going on in there honestly, but he seems pretty happy doing it!

I will close this update by saying that the baby has been lying head down for a while now, and because I can sort of visualize his/her position, I can identify the movement of what can only be hands, and it is pretty much the weirdest thing ever.

I feel them reach out and sort of trickle along my sides by my hipbones, in that weird uncontrolled flailing motion you see so often in newborns. I feel them sliding up and down and I alternate between feeling tickled and feeling sick. Because seriously dude, you are tickling me FROM THE INSIDE! I had no idea it would feel like this, no idea that body parts would feel so distinct.

Happy 33 weeks, Baby! 4 more to go!

(Also, we still don’t have baby names. Well we do and we don’t. My sisters keep boycotting one, Adam vetoes the other, I’m falling out of love with my boy name and you know what? Calling the baby STEVE is looking better and better each day)

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