Thirty-Five Weeks

We are over. it. yo.

Thirty-five weeks pregnant and I'm done. I mean... I still have eighteen days until my scheduled C-section (September 30th!) but physically I am feeling like the above photo suggests. I've put myself on partial bed-rest aka "home rest", leaving the house only to pick kids up from school and schlep up the block to my favorite sandwich shop. Other than that, I'm keeping it local because this? Is not what the public likes to see waddling down Melrose.

The babies are both six pounds, already, or so I'm told, and even though everyone is convinced I'll go into labor last week, I'm starting to think I'm going to go all the way to the end, here. Which is awesome for the babies, don't get me wrong. I want them to bake as long as possible but also, FUCK ME IN THE UMBILICAL HERNIA, this much baby does not so much feel fabulous on my body. Especially when operating on zero sleep, which, until Friday was the situation around here. Sleeping on my sides with tons of pillows sufficed two weeks ago but not anymore.

Being that my belly is the size of a small country, it's been quite the task trying to come up with comfortable sleeping positions. Belly? Impossible? Back? Too much weight on internal organs such as spleens. Sides? I have a head on each hip and fetal heads do NOT like being pressed into mattresses I now know. And so? I slept against the wall, sitting up for two weeks. Which is not the most comfortable way to get rest, I'll tell you what.

And so? I've spent the better part of the last month sleep-walking through my days.

Finally, after confessing to my mother through tears that I HAVEN'T SLEPT IN DAYS I DON'T EVEN KNOW WHO I AM ANYMORE, she picked up the phone and without so much as asking me, rented me an adjustable bed.

At first I thought she was kidding and then Friday morning, two men and a mattress knocked on my door.

"Are you Ms. Woolf?"

"Why yes, Sirs, I am."

"Where should we put this?"

I told then to stick it in the nursery and there it now dwells: ye olde Electropedic adjustable bed complete with remote control so I can fold my body in a million and one ways and then put that shit on vibrate for maximum sexy-time. Thank you, mom.

(vid via, Ashley)

I've been sleeping incredibly well these last few nights and napping daily which I have been unable to do until now, so the bed, I must say, is a huge success. Not to mention.... fun for the whole family! Every morning the kids have woken me up with a "Hey, mom! Do you want me to put your feet up higher? How about we fold you in half like this?" and then I wake up screaming because my knees are against my shoulders and my kids are laughing like "Whua ha ha ha!"

Screw a bounce-house. There is nothing more entertaining to small children than an orthopedic hospital bed. Circle of life, man. Circle of life.

(Thanks again, mom.)

Edema has struck with full force this week. Flip-flop indentations on the feet and the whole nine. I swelled terribly with my last two pregnancies so feel lucky that it's taken until now to get the itchy-mads. I salute you, ye watermelon, for getting me through relatively unscathed. (Watermelon not only cures reflux but helps keep swelling to a minimum... until, you know, it doesn't.)

For those asking about the desperately sought-after diaper bag, here she is. Twas an impulse buy because sometimes one becomes so obsessed with the perfect something, she ends up old and alone, surrounded by a thousand cats. The alternative? Buying a bag... with a thousand cats. on. it:

Marc Jacobs via Nordstrom

Some other exciting things that happened this week: Hal got a new job. Interesting timing that he'll begin four days before I'm scheduled to give birth but nonetheless a huge deal here at Casa de Hospitalbed. Dude's been working makeover shows for the last zillion years and is finally, after paying many dues, moving on... Look for his words coming to a Ryan Seacrest's mouth near you.

And speaking of Hal, I would like to take a moment to thank him for being such an amazing man, father, husband, human these past few weeks. Every Saturday and Sunday since I've had a hard time getting around, Hal has taken the kids out on adventures just the three of them... happily and without me having to so much as lift a finger or fill a water bottle or pack an extra pair of underwear. He even spent his lunch breaks last week picking Archer up from school so I didn't have to do two trips back and forth with both kids. That's a man right there. Team Helmet Lang!

P.S. His giant TV is kind of growing on me. I may have spent last Tuesday night watching The Rachel Zoe project in 3D and it may or may not have been Bu-Nyenahs.

Speaking of 3D, here's a flattering angle:

***

The other day Fable asked me if I needed tummy rubs. "Your tummy looks like it hurts, mama." she said.

"Well? Kind of sort of yes, as a matter of fact."

"Here. Let me help you."

Fable ran to the freezer to collect her stack of princess-themed ice packs and placed them one by one on my belly.

"Better?"

Not really but, "SO MUCH! Thank you, Fable."

I'd say misery loves company, but it's kind of impossible to be miserable with companions like this:

counting down...

***

thirty-four weeks

thirty-three weeks

thirty-two weeks

thirty-one weeks

thirty weeks

twenty-nine weeks

twenty-eight weeks

twenty-seven weeks

twenty-six weeks

twenty-five weeks

twenty-four weeks

twenty-three weeks

twenty-two weeks

twenty-one weeks

twenty weeks

nineteen weeks

eighteen weeks

seventeen weeks

sixteen weeks

fifteen weeks

fourteen weeks

thirteen weeks

twelve weeks

eleven weeks

ten weeks

nine weeks

***

GGC