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This Is 36 Weeks Pregnant

This Is 36 Weeks Pregnant

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I’m pregnant. But not that cute, glowing kind of pregnant. The really really kind of pregnant. The kind of pregnant where strangers look at me sympathetically as I waddle by. The kind of pregnant where I vow to never have another child again. The kind of pregnant that makes people afraid to get into elevators with me (as if I’m going to have the baby in the 30 seconds it takes to ride down to the lobby).

I’m 36 weeks pregnant—or 9 months along—or full term. Call it what you will, this is the final countdown and these last few weeks are not for the faint of heart. The once cute baby bump (you know, the one that I thought was “so huge” at like 20 weeks) is now a mountain of mammoth proportions. The adorable baby kicks now feel like an angry internal assault (how did my baby get a copy of Billy Blank’s Tae-Bo and why is she insisting on doing those moves at 3am?). I’ve started to outgrow maternity clothes (Ain’t that some shit? Clothes specifically designed for the biggest days of our lives have now been outgrown by my bigness).

This is 36 weeks pregnant - the perils of late stage pregnancy

As I trudge through these last 4 weeks (or more…God help me!) I thought I’d write down some of the perils of pregnancy. Why, you ask? Well, for one,  I know the ladies of WMAG have been there and can relate. But more importantly, I know there will be a moment in the future when I see a newborn baby in all of its newborn squishiness and find myself contemplating another baby. This is my attempt to protect myself against the baby-rabies.

So what is it about pregnancy that I dislike? Well, almost all of it. I hear there are some women who actually enjoy pregnancy – I salute you sisters, but I am not one of you. For me it’s a means to an end and well, it’s just not my cup of tea. What are the primary complaints? Oh, let me count the ways:

  • These days I don’t need to check the weather app on my phone—I can simply look at my overly swollen franken-feet and tell you how miserably hot it is outside.
  • The heartburn—dear God the heartburn. I didn’t think it was possible to get heartburn from milk, turns out it is. Everything I eat or drink comes back to attack me. It’s as if millions of tiny knives are slaying my esophagus.
  • There are 26 bones in the human foot. With every step I take 25 of them are crying in pain and begging for their lives.
  • At 36 weeks pregnant it’s no longer possible to cough, or sneeze, or move suddenly without unwanted results.
  • The general public likes to ask you questions like “Are you sure there’s only one in there?” You should not have to deal with people when you’re pregnant.
  • I mentioned growing out of maternity clothes—which means that getting dressed for work every day is a challenge. So here I am, at work, trying to be taken seriously and trying to prove that despite being 47 months pregnant I can still add value, yet wearing flip flops and some sort of yoga pants (stretched within an inch of their lives). If the old adage “dress for the job you want” is true, apparently I want to be a Weight Watchers “before” photo model.
  • Exhaustion—So tired I can’t….sorry…lost my train of thought writing that sentence. I think I fell asleep for a moment. I thought I was tired with my first pregnancy, but pregnant with a 22 month old at home is no freaking joke.
  • Pregnancy insomnia. It’s a cruel, cruel joke to play – to make you so insanely tired yet unable to sleep…all at the same time. Someone has a wicked sense of humor.
  • The compromised lung capacity. Oh my goodness, I forgot how much I love breathing. One short walk to the restroom and I’m huffing and puffing like a big bad wolf aimed at blowing a house down.
  • There’s no booze. Wait, so I have to deal with aching bones, idiot comments, the exhaustion/insomnia combo, heartburn, swelling, and looking like a hot mess everyday and I’m supposed to do it without a glass of wine?
I could keep going. The constant back (and hip, and pelvic, and leg) pain. The Braxton-Hicks contractions (or Tony Braxtons as my husband calls them). The profuse sweating. Having the emotional restraint of a 12 year old girl. The food aversions. And don’t even get me started on the gore that is postpartum…that’s another post altogether.

Don’t get me wrong. After years of infertility and finally conceiving through IVF, I am beyond grateful for this pregnancy. Don’t take my ranting to mean I am unthankful. That said, if I don’t find a way to laugh at my current situation, I will likely cry my eyes out (actually, I might do that anyway…stupid pregnancy hormones).

What about you? What did you hate (or love) about pregnancy? What tips do you have for surviving the last few weeks?

This one's for any mom nearing the end of her pregnancy and wondering how she's going to make it. Stephanie shares the trials of being 36 weeks pregnant.


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3 thoughts on “This Is 36 Weeks Pregnant

  1. haha this is really funny…about time I heard someone tell the truth about how it feels to be pregnant!

  2. i loved that people were so nice all the time! everyone is so concerned with how i’m doing and let me go to the beginning of food lines at work….then 8 months later and they were still asking me how I’m doing with that little side tilt of the head. yep! still pregnant!! do not feel sorry for me!! and yes i will totally go first in line for that free chikfila sandwich b/c i’m starving!!

  3. 35 weeks and ready to throw money at anything to make life easier – chiropractor – yes, massage – yes getting ready to book acupuncture- yes. 3 people in the last 2 days have said “oh your walk is much more of a waddle now!” Lovely. My husband ask me what I’ve done with my day expectantly like looking after our two boys is not enough already. This countdown ha definitely begun….

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