I lied.

I thought I wanted this bun to stay in the oven.  I thought I didn't want to go into labor until my due date.  I made myself believe that they were indeed correct about my due date after fighting for months saying it wasn't.  Turns out, I was wrong.

I want this baby out.  NOW.  I have no idea if he dropped or not, but I'm thinking he did.  I thought I was uncomfortable before...HA!  Oh man...I hurt in my everywhere.  And not to mention I've been having some serious braxton hicks contractions.  Everything just hurts.  I'm exhausted.  And I have a ton of energy.  (Oxy moron much?)  I can't stop peeing.  And my mouth is so dry I can't drink enough water. (Maybe that's why you have to sprint to the bathroom every 15 minutes...dummy.)  I've been crying, yelling and laughing for no reason.  Even the most harmless comment bruises my ego.  But I can dish out the insults like no one's business.  Patience has eluded me.  I go from pleasantly full to starving in 5 minutes.  My clothing no longer fits.  (And what does fit makes me look like I'm having friggen triples as numerous people have pointed out.)

The only plus side to all of this is I can *finally* go to the bathroom...sorry for the TMI. 

 Basically...I loved being pregnant, but I think it's time to think about an eviction notice.

Since I'm now 37 weeks...I'm considered full term.  Which means:
* 21 days until my due date
* I could go at anytime now
* He's almost here!

I seriously cannot wait for my appointment tomorrow.  I'm thinking that if my fundal height is still way big that they will order an ultrasound just to see how big he is.  (Hey, I'm up for another "peek" at him...I haven't "seen" him since 19 weeks 5 days.)  Although the ultrasound could go either way.  It could be "oh, he's fine" or "It looks like we're going to have to induce."  Honestly, at this point, I just want to meet him.  This week doesn't work for me, but next week...for sure he can come. :D

His bag is almost packed and I'm going to get mine done this week.  And I have to get a list together of everyone who is planning on coming to the hospital.  So far, I'm pretty sure there's a waiting list for passes...but if the head honcho (A.k.a. the one who is pushing a watermelon sized baby out of a hole the size of a lemon.) likes you...you get special treatment.  :D  I understand that people don't want to see me while I'm cursing and possibly loopy from the pain medication, but it may not be possible for everyone to see Boo once he's here.

Jus' sayin'. 

Luckily I talked to my mom about her being in the room.  I told her I have no problem with it, as long as she doesn't get in the way.  That the person who is coaching me is Greg.  And at anytime I can ask her to leave.  Surprisingly, she wasn't acting crazy and agreed.  Even more shocking is that she agreed that the kids will not be in there while I'm pushing.  The last thing I need is to hear my sister say "I'm bored" while I'm pushing.  It would be no bueno.

Now if only she will give me a straight flipping answer if she's coming this weekend.  "I don't want to step on your toes...I know Jenn said she might be visiting you."  Ummm yea...but not that day.  I just need to know if you're coming or not so I can prepare Greg.  He's had enough of your crazy...and I don't blame him for wanting to scream out whenver you call.  OR if she would kindly stop saying to every Tom, Dick and Harry that I'm practically in stir-ups already.  OR that I'm having a 20lb baby.  I know I'm fat...and I gained a good bit of weight...but that doesn't give anyone the right to say that I'm going to have that *big* of a baby.  That just makes me want to curse you out. 

See what I mean about being hormonal? 
Anyway, Until Next Time:
~MommyToBee