33.5 weeks.

this pregnancy is hitting my body image HARD.

numbers on the scale are frightening.  i am reaching the "i don't care" stage--case in point, i had pop tarts twice in 24 hours for the first time in like...ever. my party line is that there is no excuse for pop tarts.

unless you're 9 months pregnant, that is. 

and cookie dough.  i haven't gone overboard with that, which is pride-inducing, but i'm just so tired of caring when it doesn't matter. even when i'm eating well, i'm still gaining weight at a predictable, relatively normal rate.  but when you already hoped to not gain much, it's sort of depressing.

i desperately want to be able to not be frustrated with my toddler, to not be tired at 6pm and then wired at 11pm, to be able to finish all of these projects that i have, but work and my big belly seem to get in the way.

and then i feel guilty.

why am i so anxious to be done? it seems unfair to tessa.  she needs to cook. i'm totally fine with that on an intellectual level. i don't want her here yet. it's far too soon.

but good grief, i'm going to be DONE DONE DONE when she is. 

i think that's a good thing, but it feels like an eternity until that point.

in the meantime, i'm trying to eat better. i'm trying to get more rest. i'm trying to remind myself that, once she's out, even if she's screaming every 45 minutes for food, those 30 minutes inbetween will be much better sleep than now. 

i'm a broken record. i'm sorry. i just wanted to say, somewhere, that i am tired, i am huge, and i am tired of being huge. 

when i was at my midwife appointment on monday, i met a new one (i'm far enough along to start seeing everyone so that i can be familiar with them in case they are on call when i deliver).  she asked me if i was planning to have more kids, and i said, emphatically, "oh yeah. we're not done." and she was so excited. she said "normally, when people are as pregnant as you are, they are not as quick to say they'll get into this again. that's so great."

i guess that's a good sign that i'm not THAT miserable.  i think i just want to stop feeling like i'm the fattest thing ever.  i'm really, really, really looking forward to that immediate 20 pound weight loss.  i am retaining so much water this time that i know that it will be crazy. 

and, of course, i'm excited to meet tessa. but i'll be straight up--that's a side benefit to getting my body back for a while. 

see? guilt.  i shouldn't be thinking that way!

i'm sure i'm not the first to think that, though.  i hope not anyways.

sigh.

32.5 weeks.

i don't remember how i felt when i was this pregnant last time. was i this tired? was i this determined to get EVERYTHING done before she came? was i this down on myself, watching the number on the scale move ever closer to a number i haven't seen in YEARS?

i'm sure i was. in fact, i may go back and look at the posts from that time when i'm done with this one so that i can remember.  i do remember a few choice, golden nuggets of pregnancy side effects that have reared their ugly heads again. i seem to remember, in fact, that one of them happened right about this time and i was like "what?!?" 

it's hard being pregnant and having a toddler. it's not like she's physically demanding, really. she climbs the stairs on her own and can climb down with a finger to hold on to.  she climbs on me, but doesn't mind sitting on a tall pillow beside me.  she's not THAT heavy, and i'm not so large that getting her in and out of her carseat is a big deal. 

no, it's not physical. it's entirely emotional.  it's just exhausting keeping up with her, especially when she's in a "i'm not listening..." mood that day. i just don't have any patience. and it's not just with her. i have no patience with anyone, really: drivers on the road, students in my class, any piece of technology, my poor, wonderful husband, dishes, the fact that dinner has to be made every night.  nothing. i have patience for nothing.  this has been, by far, the worst side effect of this pregnancy. my mood swings are just not good.  i'm taking fish oil to try to combat it (read about it online), and i don't know if it's working or not. i know when i am eating better, eating more protein, i tend to feel better.  imagine that.

(ahahahahaha....just found week 33 from maggie--sound familiar?)

whatever. i'm getting stuff done. i'm determined. and i'm sometimes miserable. but not as miserable as i could be. perhaps not even as miserable as i might one day be, sometime soon.  perhaps not even as miserable as i deserve to be, given my attitude.  my feet keep swelling up, and that FRUSTRATES me so much (i never swelled much with my first pregnancy...summer pregnancies suck for that reason alone).  i've got aches and pains and braxton-hicks that beat the band, man.  but i get to practice my deep breathing and it's all good.

56 days, give or take 14.  i can make it. there's a little co-sleeping bassinet set up in our room now that tells me that, whatever i endure, it's worth it in the end.