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39 Weeks
It's been quite the journey... And, now-- it continues. I'm rounding a corner.
In less than 3 hours, I will be officially 40 weeks pregnant, with nothing but an even bigger bump to show for it.

I blame my silly hubby for getting my hopes up and having all of these bogus theories about me going into labor at 38 weeks or some such nonsense. He has predicted numerous days to be the day our child greets the world. But, so far, baby Ezra hasn't liked any of those options. 

My measurements have been the same for the past two weeks. 1 cm dilated, 70% effaced, and the baby's head at -1 station. The doctors seem to think that those numbers are magical and that I could go into labor at any moment. I usually leave their office feeling a bit less optimistic than all of that. 

The weeks are getting increasingly hard. My energy is depleting more each day and so is my patience. I'm not, what most people would describe as, stressed-- just anxious. Anxious to see what my body can really do as far as labor and delivery, anxious to hold my baby and look at his face for the first time (a face that is, for now, a mystery to me), and have his little tiny fingers wrapped around just one of mine. Not to mention the look on Jon's face when he see's it all happen. Having gone through the whole emergency c-section, terrifying newborn health situation, and then having a 6.5 year old who is basically a grown up compared to changing a poopy, size 1 diaper... It's gonna be a completely new experience.

I'm getting tired of people calling me every day to ask if I'm "STILL pregnant" or say, "Haven't you had that baby yet?!" Especially when most of them are family members that would be informed the moment something happened. Most people are also convinced that because DH is so tall (6'2") and weighed 10 lbs, 6oz at birth, that our child is going to be a mammoth. I hear numerous times a week about how humongous our child is going to be. Or how late.
Even when I went shopping the other day, the lady checking my items at Victoria's Secret seemed to be an EXPERT in the fact that most 1st babies are late. While it's true that 70% of all babies are born after their due date, I don't need reminded of that every five seconds!

What's really funny is, after all of the talking THEY do they say, "Well, don't be too worried or stressed out. The baby will come when it's ready." REALLY? I didn't have a clue. -_-
If maybe, just maybe, I could get away from all that talking I would be completely fine with my baby boy waiting this thing out and letting me know whenever he is ready to make his grand entrance. And I'm sure with all the pain I'm in now, a grand entrance it will be!

Between all that and DH's mom & dad in town and wanting to come over all the time, and the awkward relationship (or lack thereof) that I already have with his sister-in-law heading into uncharted waters, I'm just a little sleep deprived, tense, and moody. Jon has literally been such a doll and told me to complain as much as I wanted. Poor thing-- I don't think he understood what that meant. Haha. He is basically my life coach right now and I don't know what I'd do without him.

So, with my due date tomorrow, I'm just sitting here drinking in the fact that hubs is cleaning the kitchen for me and my whole house smells like french vanilla creamer, and wondering- Where is Baby McConnell?

 
Here we are... This week marks the END of my 2nd trimester! I have been counting down for this for the past month! I'm so excited. When I hit the 30 week mark, it will signify that the end is near. AND, that the bonding with my baby can begin! 

Today the baby is sitting very low in my uterus and isn't very active. I'm sure it's because I feel crappy and have been quite the slug today myself. I didn't intend to be, for what it's worth. I woke up with motivation to clean my entire house from top to bottom, since it has needed desperately done for over a week now. However, halfway through my "to do" list, I became very clammy feeling and 'heavy'. Hubby took my temperature at 100 degrees and ordered me to lie down for the rest of the day. (He wasn't too happy when he found me scrubbing toilets about 30 minutes later.) I'm terrible at relaxing, with a capital T.

Noah has been coughing, sniffling, and blowing his nose on and off since last Thursday. Today, his mom dropped him off here (missing school) and he also has a fever of 100. I'm pretty sure that something is just going around. Unfortunately, it may be the flu. Many of our friends have had or currently have it. It's like the germs are saying, "Welcome! We've been waiting for you..."

Noah and I both got our flu shots early last month. He has been sick once since then, only for a few days, and I haven't been at all. I was literally terrified by one of the doctors I saw [in the practice where I am treated] into getting the flu shot. I was completely against the entire idea, especially since I never ever get sick. But, apparently, after listening to doctors, friends, and doing my own research, fatalities are higher among pregnant women who get influenza than among non-pregnant. I didn't want to even risk losing my baby mid-pregnancy. I am still waiting for Jon to get his flu & t-dap shots in the near future but, until then, I at least know the the internal safety of my little one is greatly improved by my taking precautions.

I do hope that my fever doesn't go above 100, though, because then I'll have to go to the emergency room and be hooked up to an IV of fluids so that I don't get dehydrated. I think that when it comes to babies, doctors are more concerned with you being dehydrated than they are about you doing things that might seem even more drastic, like not eating.

I am making myself drink water because I don't feel thirsty in the least. I think that between forcing liquid down my throat and being confined to the couch... I probably feel a bit like Noah did about 15 minutes ago when I told him I wanted him to take a half hour nap. He instead, pretended to fall out of his bed and somehow managed to have his bath stool on top of his head by the time I walked in there. *sigh* Boys will be boys. 

Hopefully, this groggy gross feeling goes away quickly and doesn't complicate anything... We are supposed to be going to Charlotte (Carolina Panthers) this weekend for a football game; in the cold and the rain, which is exactly what I don't want to be out in if I'm sick.



P.S. I passed my glucose test and don't have gestational diabetes! WHOOP WHOOP!