Week twenty-four

Yesterday evening while I was at work, a summer storm rolled through (from the east, apocalyptically enough) and the sky rumbled and crackled louder than it has in months, making me jumpy and making the ear-of-corn-sized baby inside of me flail around like a kid who can’t swim who’s just been tossed into the pool. I hope to get one of those kids who’s fascinated by but not afraid of thunderstorms, so he can teach me his blissed-out, zen ways. Because I get pretty uptight during the dang things, especially ever since I came into possession of a roof that lies beneath a few ancient oaks.

He’s in there right now, shuddering and moving around, trying to get comfortable, I guess. Good luck with that, kiddo. My midwife told me Tuesday I have a tight uterus. Yay? She says that might spare me some of the infamous Braxton-Hicks contractions but naturally, I think means I am going to squeeze the life force out of my unborn child. I’d really rather not, as I’d like to save any smothering for later on in his life, when I can do it with weepy emotions, preferably while he’s bringing home his first girlfriend (or boyfriend! I am a Cool Mom™).

My midwife also told me that my blood pressure is up. It’s hanging out in the lowest tier of the danger zone, so maybe I can coax it back down after this week is over. Actually, I think it was up because she made me weigh myself just before she took the reading, and I was kiiiinda reeling from my first significant weight gain of the pregnancy. Eight pounds in a month! Faaaaahhhhhhhhhcccck. I know, I know. But you can’t stop your brain from sitting there and doing the math and calculating that by November you are going to be the size of a tiny planet or maybe a parade float.

Developmentally, my darling ear of corn should weigh more than a pound now, but not quite a pound and a half. His ears should be fully functioning (I suspect that’s why he got all jumpy during that storm, or maybe he was just cracked out on my adrenaline) so I have got to start piping some crappy hipster music in there to him so he will rebel the first chance he gets.

Lots of stuff happening in the house this weekend. The crib and changing table are being delivered Monday, and the electrician is coming to repair some outlets so I can move the office into the back bedroom. We’ve got to do something with a queen-size mattress until my parents can come get it. I’m excited to get things really moving on the nursery front. That will make it all the more real.

Monday I spent some time in Babies R Us, getting woozy from hunger as I walked the aisles with the little registry scanner gun. I saved the big stuff — car seat, stroller, high chair — for when Ray can make the trip with me, so we can hash out what we like and don’t like. I got to the big wall of diapers and felt overwhelmed by the entire process. The little book the store gives you lists two and a half pages of “essentials” in small type. I know much of that stuff is anything but essential, but it all just becomes a jumble of stuff to pilfer through and consider and, Jesus, how can I possibly expect people to buy us things anyway?

I am so irritable right now. My internet is all jacked up (will this crap even post?) and I’m trying to get work done before I go to work. I think all I do is work sometimes. I’m attempting to build up inventory for my C-Y Fest booth and I’m organizing stuff for a big yard sale. Gotta make some extra money since the day job isn’t cutting it, you know. Which is sad, considering I live in a modest house and drive a modest car and work 40-plus hours a week for a major corporation in the good ol’ U S of fucking A. I am so ready for some time off. I don’t care if I’m going to be up to my elbows in baby puke. It will be worth it.