...at least that's what Tom Petty sings, and I totally agree.
Today is January 13th and I have approximately 23 days left until the little guy's due date. As far as I'm concerned, he can make his big debut NOW! I didn't forget that the last month of pregnancy bites (I mean how could I - I just went through this with Payton!) but I did forget how truly uncomfortable I was.
Sleeping is a joke. I can not lay on my back or my stomach. And I can only lay on one side for so long, then I have to flip to the other side. Watching me flip has got to be similar to watching a whale sun himself on the beach. Seriously, it takes everything in my being to lift myself up, turn my belly to the other side, relax, and then get comfortable again. Imagine that then adding a loudly snoring husband next to me. Oh and don't forget the lovely pregnancy hormones that raise my body temperature so that even a normally cool 60 degree bedroom feels like a freakin' oven! Blech. I'm so over it.
I'm really not going to bitch about every aspect of my life and how this pregnancy is affecting it, really. I am very greatful to have a fertile body, don't get me wrong. I just wish God made it a little easier on us once we did conceive. After all, we are supposed to push this tiny human out of our bodies after hours of contractions and pain. WTF?
The nursery is progressing. Walls are painted, dresser is finished and ready, crib arrived, blackout shades are up. My problem is that the room itself is so tiny, nothing fits properly or looks right. I'll have to take pictures tonight to show you. Still looking for a matching rug and some art for the walls. And I wish the laminate light wood colored bookshelf matched either the dresser or the crib, but I think I'm SOL with that too. And really, it doesn't really matter - we'll hopefully move this summer and I can buy some new pieces for each room anyway. But still.
My Magic 8 ball told me that it is "for certain" that I'll be having Ryan this week and maybe even on Saturday. I'm hoping it's right.