So we meet again.
Wait.
MARCH?!?
Everyone warned me when I delivered, "Enjoy every minute! Time flies!" ...Which of course I did! But I also took part of that advice with a grain of salt, because [in my pre-baby life] there were plenty of instances when I would literally sit on the couch and watch the clock tick by, anxiously anticipating something on this day or that month and wanting to jump ahead to this certain week so I could have "X, Y, and Z" ..r.i.g.h.t..n.o.w.. because patience has never been my strong suit and a constant need for instant gratification is definitely my weakness. Sh*t, man, my past life sounds so depressing. But time ticked by at its own pace and I was just a pawn in the game of life and that was how it was.
But now? I would kill for those lingering moments when time stood still... I mean seriously, how is it March 2016??! <---That reality just literally blows my poor pea brain. I've been VERY emotional and sentimental today as I've constantly been reminded of Harper's impending birthday [*tear* *sniff and more sniffs*]. So stupidly, I decided to scroll through some of the old "pregnancy diary" posts on the blog...which made me even more sappy and sad and *sigh*... Baaaasically, motherhood has made me a mess of a human. But! In re-reading, I concluded two things: a) I clearly dove off the deep end outlining .every.single.minute.detail. in the birth story posts novels [what's that you say about beating a dead horse even deader?], but b) I totally skipped out on the tail end of pregnancy (!!!) and the eager anticipation of the arrival of our very beloved Baby F -- AKA-- Harper! So! Throwin' back today with a post I'm fairly certain no one cares about [except me and my sappy mom-self, obviously], but it's my blog and I do what I want, so.....
Helloooo, big baby bump!
Minutes after I posted this pic on the Gram of Instas, everyone thought a preterm delivery was in my cards, because...GIANT Amazon Woman and big ole' budding baby...
But the days came and went and Baby F and I shocked everyone and their mothers by making it to 35+ weeks...
We had my 36w OB appointment on President's Day; Brian was off work for the holiday and there was a white-out-condition-type blizzard hovering over our humble abode. Everyone else in town was pretending to be a damn shut-in and Facebook was plastered with posts of the empty milk and bread shelves at Wal-Mart and Schnucks suggesting a snow/ice-induced famine was on the way. But severe weather conditions can't push a term prego down: I gently coaxed/threatened Brian into driving me to the appointment, because I was SURE that [with all the contractions and general colossal-ness] I would be 5-ish centimeters dilated and my OB would just sweetly send us over to labor and delivery to break my bag and meet our nugget. [These were my real thought processes at the time, as illustrated by: having hair done and make-up applied, donning pregnancy week-by-week shirt with confidence that it would be the last time I got to mark off another week, and throwing hospital bags in the trunk of the car in anticipation of a 3-day/2-night stay...]
...But dreams shattered in 0.3 seconds as my OB announced I was only "a fingertip" dilated [and I've been in this business long enough to know damn well that meant closed/thick/high, so humph]. But hugs to my awesome OB who was always agreeable to pose in my crazy photoshoots [only after a mild hesitation and a, "Wait.........what are you doing with this photo?" #blog #always #duh].
Home for some not-fun in the snow...
38+ weeks led to the discovery of nesting [nesting is a real thing for mommies and daddies alike!] AND the invasion of my dad's t-shirt stash. ...Even Brian's shirts weren't cutting it to cover all 'dat surface area...
Finally, a new week of gestating began and you think I'd have a fresh outlook on life, but nope! Never. And I'll also never forget this night at work: I was 39w2d weeks and for WEEKS I had been taking care of prego patients who were less gestation than I. ...Which is all great and glorious until a non-term patient was like, "Hey I dropped this, can you bend over and pick it up for me?" ...to which I immediately thought, "I am soooo much bigger than you, b*tch........." ...but, seeing that I am a decent human being, I always enthusiastically responded, "Of course!" ...then began the 3-minute process of bending over and trying to get back up sans toppling over due to hugely disproportioned body weight. Omg, where was I going with that mini-rant??? Oh. Yeah, so I was in the mood of all moods during this shift and decided to snap a little 3am sorrow-selfie with REALLY high hopes that it would be the last shift before I got to hold Baby F in my arms and not in my pelvis...
#hallelujah #hallelujah #amen
Because then...
