Hey guys. I’m 39 weeks. That means Henry is due to drop out at ANY minute. Pop! Just like a slip n’ slide. (hashtag I WISH) I took some photos of myself from different angles so you could experience my torpedo shaped belly with me.
I have an intense nesting desire accompanied by none of the nesting energy, so basically I lay on the couch after doing my one task (and the ongoing task of keeping the other two alive) and wish I could clean the
baseboards dishes. And then I stand up and my pelvic floor groans worse than a haunted house on a boardwalk. The good news is that soon I will have a baby. The bad news is he has to cleave my body open in order to make his debut. But, such is life. Such is life.
And finally, a teeny tiny anecdote for y’all. Today at the bagel place for lunch a young college student named Matilda* asked me when I was due, and when I said any minute she seemed surprised. She said “Oh, but you’re carrying so small!” And then she noticed I didn’t tip her for taking my order and seemed disappointed at the wasted compliment, but I’ll take it.
*I don’t know what her name is, but she looked like a Matilda.