I almost can't believe I've made it this far. 38 weeks. I'm practically done with this whole pregnancy thing! In fact, I decided just yesterday that I don't want to be pregnant anymore this summer. It's taken me a long time to get to this point. Up until last week, when people would ask me if I was ready to birth, I would say "No, I'm really very content to stay pregnant awhile longer." No more.
I'm tired of being fat. Fat ankles, fat calves, fat thighs, fat hips, fat tummy, fat boobs, fat arms, fat hands (I can't fit my wedding rings on even my pinky finger.), fat neck, fat face. I'm so heavy. I can hardly waddle from one place to the other. Achy, achy, achy. I've outgrown all but about 5 pieces of maternity clothes. I can't sleep at night because, no matter what position I lie in, one of my limbs falls asleep and I have to move. Not to mention the fact that while there is plenty of room in our bed for Silas and skinny me, there is NOT enough room in our bed for Silas and fat me.
I am now quite ready to pop out Baby Snider.
The only thing preventing me from doing so (besides the fact that Baby Snider seems very happy in my womb at the moment) is this: My sister in law, Ellie, and my sister, Christa, are due to come and visit me for a month with the purpose of attending the birth and helping me recover after wards. And they aren't here yet. Ellie gets here Tuesday and Christa gets here the week after that. So. I just have to suck it up and squeeze my legs together until they arrive, I suppose.
The ladies at church threw me a baby shower last Saturday. It took place exactly one year and one day after my bridal shower. So much can change in a year.
I'm making the same face and sporting the same hair style. But I'm in a completely different world than the one I lived in at this time last summer. Also, I weigh 90 more pounds now than I did the month before I got married. And I miss Maggie.