Today marks the longest I have ever carried a child, 39 weeks, with nary a contraction in sight. I am tired.
Also, very uncomfortable and big footed.
Random strangers like to accost me in public places to tell me I'm "ready to pop". Aaron tells me I'm missing a golden opportunity to mess with them. I should stare confused and say,"What? What are you talking about?... Oh, I'm just fat. Thanks for pointing that out." Or, even meaner, "It's cancer."
Also, you know that thing that some people like to do, where they turn their head sideways and eye your belly before confidently declaring what your baby's gender will be? Usually the people who do that are pretty evenly split, girl or boy. I have not had one person this pregnancy declare that I'm going to have a girl. I wonder if they are all right, or all wrong. I lean toward wrong.
We don't know what we're having, obviously, we have never wanted to find out. "Oh, you like it to be a surprise," people usually say. If Aaron is around he says, "Surprised!? Oh no, I don't want to be surprised. Boy or girl, that isn't a surprise. Not human, or mixed race, that would be a surprise. I don't want that."
I finally packed the baby bag today. I forgot how tiny newborn diapers are, and clothes. SO CUTE! I'm gonna have a baby soon you guys. I almost forgot with the trying to get ready for it and all. Whoot!