Well, folks, 34 weeks pregnant. 8 months. I made it to the final round! And round I am, for sure. I’ve always carried pregnancies pretty lightly (I take no credit for that!), but this one is definitely more prominent. (Ha, what a gentle wordsmith I am– “prominent”!) I am big, y’all. But that’s okay. There’s an additional human being currently in residence, so I’m cutting myself some slack.
People ask me quite frequently how I feel, and I always wonder how much of an answer to give. Because the truth is…. whew! This is hard! But at the same time, I do feel much better than I did a month or so ago, when my iron was extremely low. I started taking Floradix, which is INCREDIBLE. It made an almost immediate difference. I couldn’t get over it! Without it, I don’t think I’d make it through these last weeks, which are so draining.
So, I’m hanging in there. It’s just not as easy as it has been in the past. I have more kids to look after, I’m heavier, older, and have more responsibilities than I used to. Eek. I’m not complaining about those things, it’s just that it makes this a different (and more challenging) pregnancy than the others. I tend to get overwhelmed faster, worn out pretty quickly. Okay, and there’s a lot more to the crazy pregnant condition that I’m sooo over, but you don’t want to hear about. I’ll spare you that litany of ailments!
But, I’m almost there. I’m ready, Freddy. I’m in the home stretch. This baby could come tomorrow, and I’d be thrilled.
However, despite the demands of these days, I will point out something really great about this time. My husband. Honestly, he has worked as hard to keep me happy and comfortable as I am working to grow and nurture this baby. We’re in this together. I know it’s wearisome to hear the same old moans and groans- but he has shown nothing but compassion and understanding. He comes home from a long day at work, and he is THERE. He’s plugged in. Until the last child is tucked into bed, he doesn’t see his day as done. I admire that, and appreciate it, and know how blessed I am. Especially right now, when I am contributing even less in the evenings than I normally would. He’s picking up the slack, and he does it cheerfully, even when his own day has been long and hard and taxing.
I’m one lucky girl. And I mean it.
So, ya know what? I’m feeling pretty good.
A month to go, and a baby to hold in my arms. Christmas, my husband, school break, and my body back to normal again. Santa couldn’t do it any better than that.