As I welcome the month of August, I also mark 36 weeks of pregnancy. I have officially made it to the last month! I celebrate the thought that by month's end three important things will happen: (1) I will finally hold my baby girl in my arms; (2) I will no longer experience constant nausea; and (3) I will have ankles smaller than cantaloupes.
I have never experienced the full 40 weeks of pregnancy (Zach was 5 days early; Tyler and Gavin were two weeks early; and Lexi was 10 days early), so of course I harbor a deep desire to deliver ahead of schedule. However, the first day of school for Zach and Tyler is also my 38-week mark, and then Gavin starts school a week later. With all of the end-of-summer and beginning-of-school activities on the calendar, I really wonder how the baby's arrival will work into the schedule. For the sake of the calendar and my own personal comfort, I think tomorrow would be just dandy, but of course I want Little Miss to be as healthy and robust as possible. Most of the time I think I can't survive one more day, but with eight months of evidence to the contrary, I'm guessing that somehow reaching the finish line is possible.
I saw my OB this morning and, despite my many ailments, got a clean bill of health for myself and the baby. There's nothing special about my situation at this point; I'm just your average eight-months-pregnant lady now. The doctor is willing to induce at 39 weeks, should I so desire. My induction at 38 weeks with Tyler was fantastic, so I will probably choose that option if the baby hasn't come by then.
So as I count down the days until our Baby Girl's arrival, I will rely on my arsenal of weapons:
- My medicine cabinet: Prilosec, Zofran, Tums, and Nystatin
- My footwear: Hot pink and white Adidas flip-flops (the only shoes that fit)
- Garry, my knight in shining armor (and dirty old car)
- Daily naps
- Ice cream
- Portable fans
It's supposed to be 97 degrees today. The last couple of items will be especially important.