At the very most we now have a total of ten weeks and two days left until the end of this pregnancy.
It doesn’t sound long at all.
We are no more prepared this week than we were last week and I’m not holding out much hope that next week will be very different either. I suspect that we will feel an urge to get on with things in preparation for Baby 13’s arrival at some point. I would hope so.
Sadly, the nesting urge seems to be something that has consistently escaped me. Scrubbing skirting boards is not something I ever felt a pressing urge to do, pregnant or otherwise, and I very much doubt that this pregnancy will be any different. I do recall buying two bunches of flowers in the same week once when I was 35 weeks pregnant with Caitlin. I wonder if that could be classed as nesting, or whether I’d need to do something more strenuous such as snipping the ends of the stalks before
plonking arranging them attractively in a vase of water?
I feel well apart from a chest infection I can’t shake and a surge of heartburn acid racing up into my throat every bedtime and at regular intervals during the night. Antacids have so far prevented any painful and perhaps embarrassing episodes from occurring but I feel that the possibility of vomiting has been too close for comfort on occasion.
But this is the truth about pregnancy. It’s not always belly stroking and singing lullabies to the bump. Well, not that I do the latter either but if you heard my singing you would understand that it is for baby’s best interests that I don’t.
The movements are definitely stronger. We are now at the stage where, if baby moves in public, you automatically cry, ‘Ooh!’ and grab onto your belly with slight embarrassment as if the whole world noticed the tsunami move across your body. Like pimples, I think belly movements are actually far less obvious to others than we believe – at least until we point them out.
I have an appointment with the midwife today but I am feeling fine and don’t foresee any concerns. I’m coming to terms that the lovely mid-pregnancy ebb and flow will soon be replaced by the end-of-pregnancy crippling tiredness I always suffer from.
Still, the fact that I don’t particularly enjoy pregnancy or do it the justice it deserves by glowing gracefully throughout with a big smile on my face is neither here nor there. That I can appreciate it for the honour and miracle it is, is enough.