I’m almost 36 weeks. That’s pretty darn far along. I know the end is in sight, but the light at the end of the tunnel is being eclipsed by my large belly.
The fatigue I experienced during the first trimester was nothing compared to how I’ve been feeling. All I want to do is sleep. Walking up the stairs is like running a marathon. Sometimes I’ll get a burst of energy, usually at night when I should be sleeping, but usually I’m just a zombie.
Some sickness has come back. I haven’t thrown up or anything, but I find myself in a general state of nausea throughout the day and night.
I constantly have heartburn and indigestion. Like, it’s just always there. And between that and the baby kicking me in my rib cage, the nausea persists.
You know those cute creases that babies get around their wrists and ankles when they’re super chubby and adorable? I’ve got those around my swollen ankles. And let me tell you, they’re not adorable.
I’m always hot and sweaty. Just… always.
37 weeks is approaching. I know I should just wait and take it easy and let nature take it’s course, but it’s going to take all my will power to not start going on excessive walks, eating spicy food, and going on bumpy car rides at that point.
I’m also very happy, in case you couldn’t tell. I can’t wait to meet our little blessing. I can’t wait to get to know him and love him. And Mark has been wonderfully understanding and patient with me these days. He’s been working so hard and I love him and our life together. I know this is the step that God wants us to take in our marriage, and I am so excited to start this chapter together.
But sheesh, let’s get this DONE!