We’re officially 2/3 of the way through this pregnancy. I’m now in the mid-twenties in both age and being pregnant. With the third trimester right around the corner, I’m trying to enjoy the last few weeks of what comfort I have left. What little there is, anyway.
Is it just me or is pregnancy never ending? I know nine months (technically I think it’s more like 10 months, but who the hell is counting, anyway) is a long time, but it seems like everyone else’s pregnancy went by SO FAST in comparison to mine. I have several friends who are pregnant, and it’s like, “How are you already 35 weeks?!” I had a co-worker tell me the other day, “When are you going to pop? I feel like you’ve been pregnant forever!” TELL ME ABOUT IT, DUDE. And then I had to tell him I still have three months left.
According to all my pregnancy apps, my little kicker now has a sense of equilibrium. When I had my mid-pregnancy ultrasound she was breech, and judging by her kicks, she still is. I don’t know if her new found sense of up and down will help this at all, but I hope that in the next few weeks she makes her way into the head down, ready to be born position. Even if it means she will be kicking my ribs.
I took today off of work to get some much needed R&R as well as some necessary errands ran, and we’re heading down to my parent’s house as soon as John gets off work. Both my brothers and their kids will be there, so we’re all excited about having the whole family together for the first time since John and I got married last year. We’ll be celebrating Father’s Day with a crawfish boil, and I’m hoping to get a couple snowball breaks in while we’re down there too.
So if I don’t get the chance before Sunday, Happy Father’s Day to all the daddies and daddies-t0-be!