Week 27

So, I've gotten to that uncomfortable, huffy puffy, sweating, have-to-sit-down-every-five-minutes, waddling whale stage. The really heavy stage. When people say to me "oh, those last weeks are the worst, arent they?"...when I'm not even int the last weeks, damn it. Or "when was your due date?" How do you answer that with "February"? When it is only December?
Look. I'm not a fatteh. I am a person who is little, has a short torso and long limbed babies. Therefore, my pregnancy bump sticks right out front. It's just how I was made.
Check this out:

At least I can say I'm in the third trimester now. That might fool people. Bleurgh.

The air conditioner drips and I cant use it for long periods of time. I lie in front of the fan, legs and arms akimbo, to stay cool. The Sydney humidity is insane right now. Insane.

Everything takes twice as long and I have had to resort to using a "claw" to pick stuff up off the ground like someone on Weekend Detention doing highway rubbish duty.

I sleep terribly, because Jack still insists on sleeping in our bed. Truthfully, I love it and I love cuddling him during the night. But it makes for a fitful sleep. I would have received the award for World's Most Terrible Mother the other day, when after one particular night of a total of 2.5 hours of fitful sleep, I couldnt wake up in the morning. I finally peeled my eyes open at 9.30am, to see that Jack was nowhere to be found. Calling for him, there was no answer. Stumbling, bleary eyed out into the backyard and I was met with the sight of my child, sitting atop the hills hoist clothes line, hoiking pegs over the fence. I waddle back inside, to the sounds of "Oi!" coming from George the neighbour's side. But I dont care about George. I just care that I have no pegs left.

Huh.

My physical exhaustion makes for a grumpy Steph. No one should dare get in my way...

Shoppers at Coles get glared at, or muttered at to "mooooovvve" when I'm feeling particularly narky. General challengers get stared down, indignantly told what exactly is on my mind, usually with condescension.

Dont I sound gorgeous right now?

Rest assured, this is not a 24/7 affliction. I am generally well behaved. Unattractive, but well behaved. But I have my moments. Kelvin has learned to "manage" me which means fervently nodding his head and agreeing with everything I say...which includes conspiring to violently assuage war on the snails who do poo in my letterbox.

11 weeks. That is all. (Next topic: My Birth Plan, which explains why I'm having a 38 week delivery instead of 40+).

See Baby This Week