I dread bedtime. I know it’s going to be filled with pain, discomfort, having to get up and crawl to the bathroom at least 5 times during the night, stuffing pillows in between my legs, having to wake Tony up to push me over on my other side, blahblahblah… And now the baby is so big, she shreds my insides when she starts kicking.
I’m thinking she needs to come early. No way I can do this another 5 weeks. Just NO WAY.
I just want to sleep. And I can’t. Damn.

I can’t recall ever looking in the mirror and feeling beautiful.
This morning, I did.
I looked in the mirror after just waking up, and I can’t explain it, but I what I saw didn’t disgust me or make me cry. I actually felt beautiful.
Yes, I’m fat. Yes, I have black circles under my eyes. Yes, my hair is in desperate need of a good cut. Yes, my skin is a bit dry. Yes, I have wrinkles. And yes, I have a very swollen “pregnant nose”.
Still, I felt beautiful. Perhaps it’s because my body is the home to a sweet little girl and when I looked at myself this morning, I saw the reflection of her eyes in mine. I didn’t pay attention to the flaws, to the excess weight. Instead, I saw a woman who is about to give birth to her third child, a little girl, and that makes me feel beautiful.

Yesterday we brought home Gabriella’s crib and we ordered her dresser.
There are just a few more big purchases we still need to make (a swing and a playyard) and a lot of little ones (stocking up on pampers, wipes and onesies), but for the most part, we’re ready for her arrival.
This is all happening so fast.
I’ve never been more miserable, yet so full of joy and excitement at the same time in all of my life. When I was pregnant with my boys, it was a completely different experience. Those pregnancies were very much planned. I remember the night we concieved each boy.
This pregnancy? Not planned. At all. And I wasn’t happy when I found out. I cried and cried and cried some more. We were only supposed to have 2 kids. We were done! But everything’s changed now. We feel like it was meant to be. We never thought we’d have a daughter, and we were ok with that, but now that there’s only 6 weeks left until she’s born, we know in our hearts this was meant to be.
We were supposed to have a little girl, we just didn’t know it.

I can’t stop myself from obsessing about my little baby.
I wonder when she’ll be born, how much she’ll weigh, how long she’ll be. What will she look like? Will she have lots of hair? Will she be bald?
I wonder what kind of personality she’ll have. Will she cry all the time? Will she be a quiet baby? Will she be fussy or content? Will she be up all night and sleep all day?
How will I feel towards her once she’s here?
I also wonder how I’ll do after she’s born. Is my doctor right to worry about my postpartum state of mind? Will I slip into a deep depression like everyone is worried I will? Or will this baby bring me so much joy that I’ll be happier than I’ve ever been? This scares me, I don’t ever want to feel like I did when I went through my depression, but I have a feeling that I won’t go there again. I’ve been off of my medication since I found out I was pregnant, and there were a few bad days, but I feel happier than ever. I’ll just have to wait and see.
I also wonder what my husband will be like with a little girl. I can’t wait to see him hold her. I can’t wait to see the smile she’ll bring to his face. He never thought he’d have a little girl and I found out that he’s always secretly wanted one. I daydream of the happiness it will bring him to finally see and hold his daughter.
Six more weeks and some of my questions will be answered. I can’t wait.

Last night I had the great idea to get the measuring tape out to see exactly how many inches I am around the belly.
52. There were only 6 more inches left on the damn tape. Think about that. I have a fifty two inch waistline.
The husband had to go and make matters worse by suggesting I wrap that tape around my ass and see how many inches that is. Isn’t he adorable? I’m pretty sure there isn’t enough tape for that.

Jerk.

Something very disturbing is happening to me in my pregnancy. Something that I hate very much.
I’m becoming a jealous wife.
Extremely jealous.
I’m not normally this way with him. But these days I am so jealous of everything he does. I don’t mean that I’m walking around thinking he’s cheating on me or accusing him of anything like that. I just get jealous when I think he’s looking at another girl, or when my son comes home and tells me that “dad was talking to one of the mom’s at school”. I get crazy. “WAS SHE PRETTY? WAS SHE HOT? IS THAT WHY YOU WERE TALKING TO HER?”
I hate feeling this way with a passion.
This is stupid, immature behavior, but no matter how hard I try to keep my mouth shut, I end up crying and acting irrational about this. I suppose it has something to do with the fact that I’m a pregnant, miserable cow

Help me.

I could spend all day long just sitting down watching my little girl move around inside of me. I love placing my hand on my tummy and trying to guess what part of her body I am feeling. Is it her elbow? Is it a foot? Is it her little butt? Sometimes it freaks me out because I can feel the little bones brushing against my insides and I think “Oh my God, there’s a real, live human being inside of me!”. I can’t think of anything in this life that compares to this feeling. The feeling of a baby inside of my body.

Today while she was moving around, I thought I’d get out the camera and record my belly in action. For the most part, it just looks like you’re staring at a big, black blob, BUT you can see my tummy moving, her little kicks and at one point, you can see, what I think is her little bottom, move quickly across my tummy. If nothing else, you can see what I do for 90% of my day, Belly Watch.
She’s not even born and I’m already showing her off. Can you even imagine what you have to look forward to in just a few months?
Gabriella in my tummy
(Quicktime required)

Why is everyone trying to talk me into getting an epidural when I have this baby?
I get it. It takes the pain away. It makes labor easier. I know this, I understand this. I know that I probably suffered unnecessarily with my boys (going through 10 hours of labor without an epidural). However…
I AM TERRIFIED OF NEEDLES. ESPECIALLY NEEDLES THAT GO IN YOUR SPINE. Yes, so terrified, I choose to suffer the pain rather than let someone stick a needle in my back.
I don’t try to talk people into NOT getting an epidural. Why is everyone trying to make me feel like I’m stupid because I chose not to get one? I don’t go around calling people wimps for getting one. I say “good for you!” and “I wish I was as brave as you to let someone stick a NEEDLE IN MY SPINE!” but I’m not. I’m a wimp.
I know people are just concerned and don’t want me to have to go through all of that pain, and I do appreciate it. That said… Leave me alone! Needles are evil and I refuse to let them put one in my back.
Leave me alone! Needles are from satan and I refuse to have one in my spine. NOTHING. I’ve had 2 boys already. I know it hurts like hell, believe me. However, I survived and lived to tell about it.