34W3D

Woo! Thirty-four weeks! The majority of babies born at 34-37 weeks, while they may need to hang out in the NICU for a while, have no permanent problems. So I don't have to panic if I just happen to go into labor  at any point. (I reserve the right to panic a little anyway if I do go into preterm labor.)

I wrote the following letter to Pterodactyl:

Dearest Pterodactyl, Could you please not come before 38 weeks? Thanks. Actually, if at all possible, could you get out ASAP as soon as you hit 38 weeks? Just to clarify, this means on or very soon after August 19th. Mom is tired of being sick. Plus, it would be convenient timing-wise. Thanks. And besides... You're excited and can hardly wait to meet us, too, right? Love, Jenna and James.

Thirty-eight weeks would be perfect because that's right after James is done teaching his class and grading finals and stuff. And then there's this whole long four-week period in which he has no official school-related responsibilities. And, of course, Pterodactyl will be full-term at that point. (I can't help but also note that she is likely to be smaller and easier to push out at 38 weeks than she would be at, say, 41 weeks.)

Ah, fantasy. I can hope, right? And if Pterodactyl hangs out until 41 weeks... well, that scenario has its advantages, too. I hear the uterus is a pretty good place to put on baby fat and continue developing. 

I've decided that, officially, I was not nesting last week. It was definitely a panic attack; it felt like a kind of paralysis. I had to work super hard (in my head, I mean) to overcome that paralysis and stuff things I didn't need into trash bags. I am currently absolutely tickled pink about how much less cluttered my living room is after hiding a few things in the closet. It's so luxurious!

I'm pretty laissez-faire about messes right now... leave 'em be. Maybe they'll magically disappear. (Actually this tactic has been successful in some ways. To my absolute delight, it turns out that Becca's favorite chore is dishes, so she does that sometimes. And guess what my least favorite chore is? Dishes. Yay!) I'm mostly just noticing messes and imperfections in my apartment. Yeah, I cleaned the shower last week. The most I've done since then? I cleaned the bathroom sink this morning. And then I thought, "Man. That was hard work. I should reward myself with ice cream." But then I thought ice cream for breakfast was not a good idea and ate real food instead. Tonight I will have my reward.

Here are my predictions about what nesting will actually be like for me: insane. I have these visions of a barely reasonable lady precariously balancing on a ladder scrubbing the ceiling with a toothbrush... and meticulously detailing the interior of the car... and alphabetizing all the food in the kitchen... You know, that sort of thing. I am immensely grateful that if this does occur, James will be here and not in San Francisco. Theoretically, if I need someone to restrain me from climbing onto the roof to clean it while forty weeks pregnant, that means James will be able to provide such services.

I officially appear pregnant enough that perfect strangers will ask me when I'm due and if I'm having a boy or girl... (Actually, they usually ask, "What are you having?" I am seriously tempted to start answering, "a baby" or "a dinosaur" or even "I'd like a cheeseburger with fries, please".) People also seem to comment fairly often that I'm "tiny for eight months pregnant". Yeah, I guess so, but I think my uterus has been growing vertically more than horizontally or outward because it measures exactly the right size.

Ah, yes. Vertically. Meaning that my stomach is currently small-pancake-sized. My appetite was absolutely and completely nonexistent for a while. It kind of freaked me out. Thankfully, that did pass, and I sometimes actually feel like eating. The only problem now? I get full quickly. So I have to eat alllll the time. Eating is something like 40% of my life right now.

For those wondering about the nausea... I WON'T TELL YOU. BECAUSE IF I TELL YOU I'M NOT NEARLY AS SEVERELY OR FREQUENTLY NAUSEOUS AS I HAVE BEEN, THEN IT WILL SUDDENLY RETURN WITH A VENGEANCE. So I won't tell you. I will say that I've experimented with Zofran this week. I've been taking 16 mg every morning for a long time now, but decreased to 8 mg this week in case I didn't need it. I found out that I do need it, but I feel ***CENSORED*** when I take 16 mg every morning, which is awesome, so I'll take it! 

I am not sure to what I should attribute this change. I have three suspects. First, the natural progression of pregnancy and changes in hormones and schtuff. Second, acupoking. Third, drinking lots of Gatorade... Mmm, eating me some electrolytes! I knew when I made all these changes at once that the results would be hard to interpret, but I figured it'd be worth it. Now the scientist in me is facepalming herself with regret. Now I'll never know what the magic cure is!

Love and electrolytes,

Jenna and Pterodactyl (a.k.a Amelia Rose... 98% probability)