Those ARE NOT My Hands...

I've officially hit the point in this pregnancy when I can say "I'M DONE".  It was so great to have some ladies just pray for me yesterday in church... because right now, 2 weeks seems so far away.

I'm 38 weeks pregnant and I'm done.  I want this baby boy in my arms and not in my belly... and especially not on my bladder or in my ribs (which he has rediscovered with every stretch)!  My OB is so wonderful and assured me I'm at the worst point in pregnancy.  The point when every nasty symptom is amplified... and that I just need to survive it.

I woke up yesterday feeling like I had resumed running and never stretched out.  Turns out the swelling has expanded into my calves... and they are so sore.  My wonderful husband was rubbing them last night and it was written all over his face... the "Oh my gosh are you swollen!".  Even my toes are looking like marshmellows.  I love marshmellows... but not this way.  We won't even discuss how horribly swollen my hands are.  I can't even pop my knuckles due to all the swelling.  Sigh.

NO, I'm not one of those pregnant women who "has never felt more beautiful"!  I'm with my friend Tara... I have felt WAY more beautiful.  I have 2 shirts I can fit in right now... that's right, 2... so I'm leaving in tank tops and honestly... I don't care if my bra strap does show with them!  I don't consider myself high maintenance... but I would like a little more choice.

My husband had this relieved look on his face as he headed out the door for work this Friday morning.  A look that says "I'm going to leave now... why don't you take a nap or something."  I fought the urge to blame him for "doing this to me"... and I have never done this before (I've maintained it was a team effort... but the team isn't suffering).  Yes, I was angry at him... because he got sleep and isn't dealing with raging hormones.  Because he can tie his own shoe... and because he doesn't have to pray that he doesn't have an "accident" every time he sneezes.

So... I've officially given Baby Boy his eviction notice.  He has until his due date to vacate and if he fails to do so, we'll be talking to the doctor on the 18th about evicting him.  You know I'm desperate when I went and bounced on a friends trampoline on Saturday!  Ha.  Fat girl bouncing.  I'm sure it was a sight for the neighbors.