I'm seven months pregnant today, and it's so odd to be in a place that I've dreamed about and longed for for so long. I love this boy so much already and I love that he is mine and I love that he is Felipe's and I love that there will never be another person just like him, even if Felipe and I made 100 babies. And I'm getting so antsy for him to be born. I want to hold him and squeeze him and kiss his little cheeks and pinch his chubby thighs and just marvel in the miracle of his existence. I feel like I'm the first person in the world to have ever been in love. And I just love having this little buddy with me all day. I love feeling him move and complaining to him about his constant squirming. And I love the terror I feel about squeezing his massive body out of my tiny down-under. And I love it all because he is my child and Felipe's child and we get to raise him and love him together. A family is such an amazing, sacred thing and the more I digest the important role Felipe and I will play as parents, the more I understand why Satan is working so hard to break families down. I know it's not going to be all fun and roses and I'm so nervous that I'll fail him as a mother, but there is so much joy in being a family, and things don't have to be easy for them to bring you joy.
On to other matters, here's a riddle for you that I just accept but really blows Felipe's mind: I'm considered seven months pregnant today, am due three months from last Tuesday, but won't actually be physically pregnant for nine months until February 1st, even though I'm due January 22. Who said that women are pregnant for nine months? I'll be considered full term at 37 weeks on January 1st, but will have been actually pregnant for only and exactly 8 months on that day. No wonder babies are never born on their due dates; we keep changing the dates on them and I think they just don't know when to come out. Depending on how you calculate it, a full term woman is pregnant anywhere from 8-10 months (I'll take the 8, thank you).
I know it's been two long months since my last post and a lot has changed. Number one change is these darn fake contractions. If I had to guess, I'd say this baby is going to come early (which would be ok with us). Any time I walk around for more than a few minutes (for example: grocery shopping) Braxton-Hicks comes calling. I never get them sitting down so it's a good thing I have a desk job. I guess it's ok I'm getting a lot of these contractions now because I only plan on having a handful of real contractions during labor before baby comes out...wouldn't that be nice?
The newest development is regarding insurance. Bleh! I'm still on my Dad's insurance, which has been great, but I turn 26 in a week and a half and reach the age where one is suppose to be independent insurance-wise. With all the fancy fertility bills (which we'll still be making payments on after baby is actually born, hopefully his cute face will make it easier to send off those checks) I've already hit my deductible for the year. It seemed like a bit of a mean trick for baby to be due just a few months after my insurance ran out and I'd have to switch to Felipe's and start over on the deductible. However, I just learned that my Dad's insurance will cover me until Jan 1 2014. Just 22 days stand between paying a butt load for the birth and paying a comparative pittance. 22 days! I'd much rather not be making concurrent payments for the child's conception and birth so fingers crossed for a December 30th baby! Yes, yes, of course his health is most important. But if he's going to be just as healthy at 37 weeks as he will be at 40, I'll take the 37 weeks and save that money. Especially since we'll be going down to one income when the baby's born and I quit my job (which is stressful in and of itself).
All in all, this pregnancy is going great. We're getting ready to paint his room, all of his beautiful little socks are in his drawer waiting for him, and the baby shower is under way. Here's to smooth sailing from here on out!
