38 weeks today (as related to the conception due date). Still pregnant. Still waiting. Earlier today I was mentioning to Andy that the end of this pregnancy sure seems a lot easier than the end of Cassia’s pregnancy. He agreed, noting that by this point last time I had been complaining for a few weeks that the baby should just get out. Not so this time.
My hips don’t hurt as bad. My uterine muscles aren’t cramping with every move I make (which was especially bad at night with Cassia). My carpal tunnel seems to have completely disappeared. My tummy isn’t so scratchy and itchy all the time (probably because I decided to actually moisturize the skin as it stretched this time…using, of course, my awesome Un-Stretch Mark Oil I make). Overall, I’m rather content for being at 38 weeks. Bizarre, isn’t it? I feel like I should be complaining more, but I can’t justify it by any means. It’s definitely strange how very different each child can be, even in utero. I hope this doesn’t mean that baby will want to stay in the womb indefinitely. While I’m happy to not be complaining so much, that doesn’t mean I don’t want to meet said baby who has given me the best pregnancy so far. And my doctor would be more than happy to assist with inducing baby out, though it’s not my preference.
So don’t get too comfy and happy in there baby. Mayhem must arrive for there to be completeness in this story.