I am not pregnant....

...nor have I been for almost six months now. So I *really* need to stop wearing maternity clothes!

I'm only 5lbs heavier than my pre-pregnancy weight but my hips are about 4" wider than they used to be. Nothing fits. Except a few A-line and full skirts. So I continue to wear my maternity pants. And you know what? I love them. I have a few pairs that are really, really comfortable and would be flattering if I had a huge belly, but unfortunately now just look stupid.

So what do I do? Buy larger pants that won't fit well? Starve myself to fit into the pants I already own (although I'm not sure that'll do very much for the wider hip issue)? Use a rubber band to secure said pants? Move to an elastic waist?

Argh. I'll probably just continue to wear my maternity. It's so pathetic.

Okay, I'm NOT 14...

...but apparently my skin thinks I am. My forehead and cheeks are breaking out. With acne! What's up with that?

Yes, I understand that my hormones are going bonkers right now, but there's no need for them to screw with my face. They're doing a good enough number on me mentally; I really don't need the added stress of ZITS. Ick. I really hope it won't get TOO bad because if it does, you'll see me on a Proactive commercial soon enough.

And just think, pretty soon my hair will start to fall out, my boobs will shrivel up and die and I'll be stuck with an extra 4-10 pounds (all in the wrong places, I might add)! Won't that be lovely? Don't. Answer.

One more bottle of beer on the wall...

One week until my due date. One day until my induction (hopefully...PLEASE DON'T BUMP ME). I am *so* ready for this it isn't even funny.

So probably not too many more updates before le bebe, but I'll see what I can do. Just think: no more *poor me* pregnancy posts. Aren't you excited?

38w 1d

I know. I know. I've been neglecting my blog...but with very good reasons:

1. I'm too damn tired to do anything but waddle around and complain
2. I really have nothing to say

See what I mean? Those are damn good reasons. I am utterly exhausted, have a cold and feel like my pelvis is going to break in half any second. Other than that, I'm peachy.

The bright spot in all of this: I had a spa pedicure yesterday and it was amazing. I have to remember to pamper myself more when I get into a funk because it really works. Either that or buy myself something super expensive and luxurious.

Oh, and to my three readers out there: if you have any sympathy for me at all, please concentrate all of your mind mojo on putting me in labor. Thanks very much (in advance).

It's official.

I'm miserable. And still pregnant. So I have very little to say. I'll try and think of some sort of update later. Look for an edit.

Baby Watch 2007

Still nothing. Just lots of pelvic pain and other ickiness generally associated with late-term pregnancy.

But instead of bitching about it (or anything else for that matter), tonight I'll be over at MamaPop Talk for a live chat-in on Dancing with the Stars.

And for the record, Cliff is going home this week. I feel it.

SCIATICA!

I swore the first time that this was the worse pain ever. And aside from shingles--which no human being should EVER have to endure--I was right. The Sciatica? Yep, it's back. With a vengeance. I can't walk. I can't move. I can't even breathe without subjecting myself to such intense pelvic pain.

And goody for me! According to the midwife, this has absolutely nothing to do with the onset of labor. Meaning, that I could, theoretically, go through this for ANOTHER THREE WEEKS.

Um, I. don't. think. so.

NOT a good idea

So, I hadn't felt the baby move in a while and since she's a very active bugger, I got a bit worried. So I poked her. And apparently woke her up. And she's not happy. At all. She's already knocked the wind out of me once and is now moving like crazy. I believe I hear some faint cussing as well.

Note to self: don't poke baby.

No baby.

That's all I want to say.

And the countdown begins...

Note: this child has officially stayed in my womb longer than Petra did. As I write this, we're going on eight hours longer...which is a good thing...sort of.

So I'll update this blog as I progress...if I do. Because according to Petra, I won't have this baby until next year.
__________
Today's Update:
Excruciating inner thigh pain and excessive peeing.
Some movement but nothing as dramatic as in past days.
Lots of gas (TMI, I know).
Not much to eat. I really haven't been too hungry today.
__________
So we'll see what tomorrow brings. I have to go back to the doctor's office at 10am for a non-stress test because, you know, I'm of AMA (advanced maternal age). I'm hoping they'll tell me I'm in labor.

It's been a while...

...since I've blogged, but I have a good reason: I'M EIGHT AND A HALF FRIGGEN MONTHS PREGNANT.

There, I got that off my chest.

And just in case you were keeping track, I am 36 weeks and two days...the EXACT day my water broke with my first pregnancy (which produced the love of my life). And fortunately (or unfortunately, I can't decide), it doesn't look like it's going to happen again. I will *officially* make it longer in this pregnancy than in the first.

And I suppose that's a very good thing. Right? So, the question of the century is, when is this baby going to come???

It feels like a lifetime...

But really, it's only been eight months. Exactly. If all goes according to plan, I have five weeks and two days left in this pregnancy. But we all know how well my plans go....

...and I should add that it's not even 9am and I'm already having a craptastic day. Between my child throwing her Leapster at my head because she couldn't see it and the woman in the white Dodge Caravan who cut me off and then had the audacity to flip me off after I beeped at her--I can tell it's time for me to just go back home, get under the covers and watch lots of daytime television.

Not a good color

So I woke up this morning just as the alarm was going off, Petra by my side )of course). I sat up, took in the Channel 7 weather and gave Petra a nice long squeeze. I forced myself out of bed, went into P's room and came back with her clothes so Natche could get her ready.

And that's when I saw it. The BRIGHT RED blood on the bed. Right where it wasn't supposed to be. Now understand, it wasn't just a little dab; this blood appeared to be some significant spotting.

So I did as any pregnant lady would and I *RAN* to the bathroom, thinking the entire time, "What do I do? What do I do?" and, "This REALLY isn't good," and finally, "Oh shit". I mean, I'm eight months pregnant. That kind of blood is a really, really bad sign, right?

And that's when I saw it. The big blood stain on my right pajama pant. Which, when removed revealed a massive cut on my leg. Nothing more. It didn't hurt and I had no IDEA I was bleeding as heavily as I was. But that's what it was. A nasty cut. And because I sat up in bed with my legs folded underneath me....well, now you know why the blood was where it was.

People! I. almost. had. a. heart. attack. This pregnancy is just too difficult. Can I really still have five weeks left?

Pick a day...any day!

My mother already has April 26th (not coincidentally, her birthday).
Natche thinks this child will come on May 1.

I have a feeling, that just to spite me, this child will come on May 18. And for those not keeping track, that will be one day AFTER my due date.

So what do you think? Venture a guess?

I did it!

I went back to the gym today to work out with JP for the first time since this unfortunate episode.

I was so nervous; I thought it was going to suck big time...or actually, more to the point, I thought I'd be sucking some major wind. Surprisingly though, I did really, really well. Granted, I wasn't lifting anything REALLY heavy but I managed to do an hour-long full body workout with surprising ease.

And. it. felt. good. So good, in fact, that I plan to go back next week and every week until this baby makes her appearance. LOVE IT!

70 bottles of beer on the wall...

I can't take it anymore. It's time to talk about this pregnancy again. Some updates:

1. Went to the doctor last week. I'm on the every-other-week schedule now. It's getting close. Yippee!
2. Baby's already head down. Another good sign. Hopefully she'll stay that way.
3. The heartburn, Gerdie, as I've affectionately named her, is brutal. The midwife put me on Zantac and while it helps, it doesn't completely eliminate the brutal effects of acid reflux. I might actually have to eliminate coffee completely from my diet. I just can't take it much longer.

So that's the update. Oh and I guess it's time to start the poll. When do *you* think this baby will come out. Anyone who guesses AFTER May 17 will be shot on sight. FYI.

¡Lo hicimos!

We did it! I slept for more than two hours at a stretch! It was fantastic. I fell asleep close to 10 and woke at 11:30 to pee and readjust the pillows. But I must've hit on the secret sauce of pillow placement because lo and behold, while I did wake briefly at 1am, I didn't get up. I simply closed my eyes and when I next opened them, it was 4 AM. 4. Not 1:30, not 2 or 2:30, but FOUR AM. That's pretty darn close to a miracle in my book.

Sure, I'm still very tired. One night of decent sleep does not an entire week make up. But, and a Big Butt at this point, it's a start. And sure, it took every single pillow I own (no exaggeration...I actually stopped myself from pulling the pillow out from under my daughter's head to further build my nest), but it was well worth it.

I SLEPT. Hallelujah, people!

When all of this is over...

...I am buying myself something BIG, SHINY and very EXPENSIVE. My friend Garo, the jeweler, is about to come into some money.

Come on, there's nothing wrong with the "birthing bauble". It's a great concept, really. I want to go and pick it out. I want to drool all over its shiny expensivness. I want other people to look at me and say, wow, that must've been a tough pregnancy!

And, selfishly, I want reminder that even though these last few weeks will be tough, they will be well worth it. And yes, people, I realize that getting a sweet, smart, healthy little girl should be reward enough, but I gotta be honest: a bright, shiny, diamond-y thing will certainly be nice.

That was about as stupid as you get.

I'm referring to the wine. Drinking it was probably the stupidest thing I've done in a long time. Not because I drank too much or because I felt lightheaded or anything like that, but because I woke up (for the first time) at 11:30 with the feeling that someone was sticking hot poker needles in my chest. Oh, the agony of heartburn/reflux, whatever the hell it was. I was miserable and the double doses of Mylanta did nothing to extinguish that fire.

So, in my misery, I went downstairs to see if sleeping on the couch or in the recliner would offer any sort of relief. Nope. One hour later I was in the same amount of pain I was before. So, I hobbled back up the stairs in pretty much hysterics (not only because I was in pain but also because I was so friggen' tired at this point) and made my husband wake up to listen to me bitch. He. Loved. That.

Finally, I arranged all of the pillows on the bed into some sort of pregnant lady nest (and by now, it's 2:30) and managed to sleep for two hours without waking. Hallelujah. Fully basted on that side, I turned over and slept another two full hours. And while that isn't nearly enough sleep for an individual, it is more than I've gotten at one time these past three days.

I woke up this morning and told Natche not to disturb the pregnant lady nest I built. I'm hoping it will prove effective tonight. Especially since I don't plan on having another glass of wine until the next millenium.

P.S. for Al - I went to the packy last night to pick up said bottle of wine and happened to get in line for the register right next to the tequilas. I was *this* close to buying the $64.99 bottle of Cabo Wabo Anejo. *This* close. But since I was already receiving many a nasty glare from patrons who obviously felt that a pregnant woman and her three-year old daughter should not be buying wine, I second guessed my decision to add a bottle of tequila to the mix.

Desperate times call for desperate measures

I *will* have a single glass of wine tonight in an attempt to get more than two hours of sleep.

I am D-E-S-P-E-R-A-T-E people. I haven't slept well in more than two weeks. And I haven't slept at all these past few days. And do I even need to say it: I'm TIRED. Exhausted, really.

The warm-milk-releasing-tryptophan trick ain't workin'. The maternity pillow I purchased? Not so great. And while the heating pad is nice (for a while), it has to be reheated in the microwave every hour or so for it to stay nice.

So that's it. That's just it. I'm trying the wine...and if it fails...well, is there anything wrong with having them induce 11 weeks early?