It’s that time of the pregnancy again — the time when I start counting the hours until my next chiropractic appointment. Of course, this time I haven’t been going to the chiropractor regularly, having wisely avoided three-week road trips and the like. Up until the past week or so, my workouts have kept my back in tiptop shape and my joints have been, for the most part, pretty comfy.
But lately I’ve begun feeling pregnant. Really, really pregnant. I’ve been having pregnant moments for a month now — getting out of bed, walking around the mall for too long, things like that. But now I feel hugely pregnant all the time. As I well should! Already I have gained 20 pounds, and we’ve still got 11 weeks to go. And what do I have to show for it? A large wardrobe of maternity tops that don’t quite reach the top of my lovely maternity pants. Apparently, my belly has gone over the arbitrary growth limit set by Motherhood Maternity and is now in unknown territory. (This happened with Maddi too, but let me just say that while a midriff-exposing maternity tee is kind of funny in April, it’s much more serious when your bare belly hangs out in the Canadian winter.)
Anyway, all this hugeness has finally gotten to me. My bones have absolutely given up the good fight and are now screaming under the extra 20 pounds they have to carry. My back threatens to spasm if I stay in one position too long. And thanks to our little guy’s low position and the damage already done by his sister, my hips and coccyx loudly insist that they’re going to crack at any second, dumping their cargo unceremoniously on the floor of whatever grocery store is lucky enough to have me as a customer when the inevitable happens.
Chris can tell when I’m arising from a bed or chair, even from another room, because my agonized groans can be heard throughout the house. Clearly, chiropractic treatment is in order here. And my time will come in just six days and 90 minutes.
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In other news, we’ve finally started shopping for our wee boy. In the closet, we now have a baby-blue velour Boppy cover (pink ginham was out of the question!) and a little blue sleeper. We’ve bought new bibs and pacifiers in boy-friendly colors and picked up some blue flannel sheets. We have a favorite crib bedding picked out, although it’s back-ordered and we’re exploring other options. And we are almost decided on a double stroller.
Our little guy even has his own baby registry, although it’s quite sparse and mostly clothing since there are very few baby items we don’t already have. Let’s just say that Mommy will do anything for a goodie bag and $5 off our next purchase at Toys R Us. We’re not sure if they meant to put a brand-new Avent bottle (our favorite kind!) in the goodie bag with all the brochures and samples, but we’re certainly not planning to bring it to their attention.
It’s finally starting to feel as if he’s on his way here. And why shouldn’t it? We’ve got 11 short weeks (maybe less!) before my tired old pelvis gives out and unleashes a new Phillips on the world.
And now, for your viewing pleasure, I present the Week 29 preggie pics: