It’s hard to believe I’ve been pregnant for more than 250 days—and even harder to believe I’m halfway through the 37th week of pregnancy. I remember looking at the calendar when we first learned I was pregnant to find out when the 37th week would start. It stood out as a magical, target date in my head because, if born that week, my baby would most likely thrive without any additional medical intervention. It seemed like an eternity away at the time. Now, it’s just hard to believe we’ve made it and in just weeks or days I’ll be holding my sweet little baby in my arms.
As I sit here and type, my belly is pulsing a bit as baby girl hiccups. After a few minutes of hiccups she usually gets a little impatient and begins moving around causing my stretched stomach to contort into funny shapes. The other night she had hiccups while I was snuggling up next to Matt. At first he thought she was kicking him, but I just laughed and told him she was just hiccupping. It wouldn’t have been surprising if she did start kicking, though. She hates it when anything touches Mommy’s belly (like the baby doll we were using during a breastfeeding class. Baby girl tried to push it away with all her might to the amusement of our midwife).
Monday was my last official blood and urine test. If you asked me my least favorite thing about pregnancy, I’d have to say the monthly blood tests. I hate needles—with a passion. So I’m very excited to be almost over the poking and prodding. Matt went with me and, when he saw how much blood they were taking, he blurted out “holy crap!” Meanwhile, I’m sitting there with my eyes squeezed shut trying to focus on my breathing instead of the needle. My eyes shot open and, heart pounding, I asked what the problem was. He said he was just shocked that they took five vials of blood. Seriously? I thought the needle slipped and I was hemorrhaging blood based on his reaction. I gave him a dirty look and told him he better not do that during delivery.
On Tuesday we went to the doctor for another size scan. When we got there, we learned the appointment was actually scheduled for the next day. Luckily they had a cancellation, so the secretary was able to squeeze us in. Whoops! I was officially banned from updating our calendar for the next few weeks.
During our last size scan, baby girl was pretty much topping the charts in the 90th+ percentile. I guess she decided to take it easy on Mommy and slowed down a bit on her growing. Now she’s showing up in the 80th percentile and was an estimated 7 pounds, 6 ounces on Tuesday. So, according to the doctor, we’re still expecting an American-sized baby, but she probably won’t be the nine or ten pounds we were anticipating based on the previous size scan.
In other good news, I’ve only gained 10 kilos (or about 22 pounds) during the last nine months, which pleased my doctor. My theory is all the walking we do helped combat the baguettes and croissants I’ve eaten—plus a lack of access to 24-hour stores certainly helped curb any late-night cravings I might have had. It’s 11:00 p.m. and I want chocolate cake? If we don’t have any in the apartment already, not going to happen.
My advice for all you ladies looking to manage your pregnancy weight? Just pretend you live in Europe—hide your car keys (which shouldn’t be too hard once pregnancy brain kicks in) and make believe all stores/fast food joints close by 8:00 p.m. Wear a scarf and red lipstick and speak with an accent if it helps—et voila!
I’ll try to get in another post or two before baby girl is born but, if I realized anything last night as baby girl was pushing down so hard it felt like she was trying to escape, it’s that we really have no idea when she’s going to make her debut. In fairness, the UEFA Championship games are on and France was playing, so she probably just wanted to come out and cheer, but she ultimately decided to stay put. Follow me on Twitter or Instagram if you want to know when she arrives. I’ll probably post on there more quickly than I will on the blog after she is born.