This post is also pretty monumental because we are...
Because I'm an honest person and enjoy making fun of myself, here is a picture that did not make the cut. I'd like you to enjoy the candid glimpse of my translucent complexion, awkward smile, obvious bra lines, and whatever the eff my hair is doing. Just trying to remind everyone that pregnancy is not all the glitz and glamor that I constantly crack it up to be. Please scroll down to the "Symptoms" portion of the post for proof of that glamor.
We hosted Thanksgiving at our house. The requirement to be a guest was that you were a male, as you can see below. This rule only didn't apply to me. Our nephew, Jarek, came to visit us and he is officially taller than the both of us. He also has a girlfriend, which was a huge talking topic for all of our guests. They all decided to give him manly advice about girls and relationships. A few minutes into this, I looked around and pointed out that the only person in the room who actually even had a girlfriend, was Jarek. The discussion came to a sudden halt after this. Not really sure why.
I did a lot of cooking. While barefoot. And pregnant. In the kitchen. I thought of a lot of redneck jokes to make at my own expense while doing so. I paid for all of this the next day when my feet were SO sore that it hurt to walk. I can't decide if this means I've just never cooked that much while pregnant, or if I've just never cooked that much in my entire life. I'll ask my mom or Google and get back to you all.
The next day, we went bowling and I would like it on the record that I beat Greg. He is actually a huge sore loser so one might call this a major life accomplishment.
In the middle of December (right around the 6 month mark) I went to Seattle for my company's annual holiday party and my bump decided to make an appearance just in time. The night I wore this dress is truly when I noticed I "popped". Future child, I owe you a solid for doing this. Pregnant is typically way cuter than bloated, as far as formal attire goes. Except maybe at a senior prom. Or so Teen Mom tells me, anyway.
I flew back home and a week later, we traveled from Georgia to New York for Christmas. It was here that I gained an impressive 6 pounds in just two weeks. I'd like to credit this to the plethora of restaurants offering delivery. And to pizza. And my mom's Christmas cookies. And my aunt's corn bake.
The only thing missing was Jenn, who could have enjoyed a glass of the sparkling rose, but she was busy being selfish and birthing her third child, in an effortless manner. God.
Here's some pictures of people smiling and enjoying the open bar.
- Holy heartburn: I keep expecting it to get better, but it just gets worse. If the old wives tale is true about heartburn meaning a hairy baby, I will be giving birth to a fur coat in March.
- Urination: I've begun considering switching from traditional methods of frequenting the restroom, and instead opting for a bedpan or an adult diaper. The pros heavily outweigh the cons.
- Strange Dreams: I keep having weird dreams. The constant themes are that I am in high school, I am not pregnant, and that I'm drinking alcohol. I don't know what this says about me as a person.
- Still Hungover: While the nausea is gone, I feel hungover 80% of the time. This is certainly not fair, but I'm going to blame this symptom on the binge-drinking I'm apparently doing in my dreams.
Embarrassing Things: I totally peed my pants. I sneezed and, well... it just happened. This only furthers my belief that I should give up and start wearing Depends. If you are someone that has spoken to me in person for longer than 3 seconds, and I have therefore opened up my entire life to you, you know that peeing my pants is not the worst thing that has happened to me during this pregnancy. I'll let your imagination do the rest, folks. Perhaps a blog post for another day. Or audience.
Cool Things: We officially have godparents! Uncle Chuck and Aunt Erin are the lucky winners. They also both happen to not identify as Catholic, which should prove interesting as we prepare for the baptism. Sorry, God/church. Both of my godparents are ironically not Catholic either, and it worked out pretty well for me, so I'm not too concerned.
Pregnancy Milestones: I got to "celebrate" the third trimester by taking the infamous Gestational Diabetes test. Yes, that lovely test where you drink the horrid glucose drink. Luckily for me, I misplaced the one they gave me at my last appointment, which meant I got to arrive an hour early to get a new one and drink it in the office. As luck would have it, they had orange, my absolute least favorite flavor. As luck would also have it, someone must have been storing this one next to a radiator. So down the warm overly-sweet drink went. The worst part? You only get five minutes to do this. At first sip I thought, "Well, this isn't so bad". I confidently chugged it like a boss while the nurse looked on, knowingly. It was about one minute in that I began to sweat. Suddenly I wasn't such an expert. Those five minutes felt like 30 seconds as I frantically tried to imbibe this crap without puking, fainting, or dying. Luckily, I survived and thought, "hey it would be fun to do my least favorite thing an hour from now", which is to get a blood test. I survived that, too. As my mantra has been this entire pregnancy: this kid better frigging love me.