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Lazy and Overwhelmed

3 Jul

I’m just about 37 weeks along now. That’s full term, y’all. Very exciting, but also very scary.

What’s REALLY scary, though, is how lazy I have become lately. (Many people say I’m just “resting” up but honestly, I just feel lazy.) The other day, for instance, I went to sleep at 7PM. I slept till my alarm at 7AM. Last night, I didn’t even get up in the middle of the night to pee. And not because I didn’t have to. I always have to pee. I’m just That. Freaking. Lazy. I’d rather lay in bed and squeeze my legs shut tight than get up and pee.

I think my crowning “lazy” achievement was skipping lunch one day because I was simply too lazy to get up and go to the break room to make myself a sandwich. MY CUBE IS RIGHT OUTSIDE THE BREAK ROOM, YOU GUYS.

Seriously. It’s that bad.

In true lazy (bulleted) fashion, here’s my 37 week update for you:

  • My coworkers threw me a surprise baby shower! It was so nice and unexpected! Thank you all! (See photo.)
  • At last check, I was 3 centimeters dilated and 75% effaced.┬áMy doctor also complimented my cervix, saying she’d be “tickled pink” (yep, really) to already be that far along before active labor. I’ve never had someone compliment my cervix before. I’m so flattered.
  • I’ve also never posted anything on the Internet before concerning my lady bits. But now, since I’m expecting a baby, it’s totally acceptable and normal for me to do that.
  • Also. My boobs are officially functional. Aren’t you so glad you know that?
  • Pregnant women can do anything they want. Much like honey badgers.
  • A lot of you have been asking for pictures of the nursery. Sorry, I can’t give you that, because I’m doing the opposite of nesting. This is what it looks like: I walk into the nursery. I see that, while it’s put together for the most part, there are still clothes to be sorted and put away, there are no sheets in the crib, there is no cover on the changing pad, there are no sheets in the bassinet(s) (yes, we were gifted several), and there are no decorative things on the wall, and then I turn around and walk out and shut the door. As if putting it off one more day is going to help at all. Chalk it up to either I’m a horrible mother or the lazy thing. (My money’s on lazy, but I can’t deny that the idea that I’m also a bad mom is always in the back of my mind.)
  • My good friend Emily is exploring a career in massage therapy and has so graciously offered to practice on me weekly until baby boy shows up. It’s probably the best thing to happen to me since actually getting pregnant.
  • I’ve had to remove myself from Facebook to protect myself from the onslaught of unsolicited birth/labor/parenting advice I’ve been receiving. I’m too overwhelmed, emotional, and hormonal to take it.
  • My friend Ashley, who was 4 weeks ahead of me in pregnancy, just gave birth to sweet baby Jack. At the beginning of this, I told myself it’d really hit me when Ashley gave birth. Well. I guess I was right. Because up until now, I’ve been waiting on Jack. Now, there’s no one left to wait for except my son. My. Son. (Oh yeah. And finish the nursery. But let’s be real, here. Until this nesting instinct kicks in, if it does at all, that’s just getting ignored.)

I’m too lazy to effectively end this post. So bye.

On Gaining Weight and Not Losing Pants

10 Jan

Yesterday I finally broke the news to my boss and coworkers. It feels so good to finally have this “little” secret out in the open. I don’t feel so shady anymore since, as those of you who know me can attest to, I’m a horrible liar. Even through omission. I just can’t do it. (Did I miss out on some useful lying gene or something? Hopefully Durrenbaby misses out on it, too, primarily in his or her teenage years.) So I’ve been walking around on eggshells for the past three months, afraid to talk about ANYTHING lest the news of my pregnancy accidentally fall out of my mouth. It’s only been the sole thing I think about since… well… conception.

“What’s new, Lindsay?”
“Oh, you know, nothing at all. Nothing out of the ordinary. Same old, same old. Definitely not experiencing some earth-shattering life change or anything. What’s new with you?”

So. What is new with me?

Well, I finally gained some weight. Two whole pounds! And, I have to admit — it’s difficult to be excited about it. When I saw the number on the scale this morning, I stepped off and back on THREE TIMES to make sure it was right. Unfortunately, my entire life I’ve been conditioned to cower in fear at the thought of the number on the scale climbing, so my morning started off a total drag.

“I gained two pounds,” I announced to my husband this morning.
“YAY!” he squealed in delight.

I wish I could have that same reaction. Maybe I will at some point. But as for now, I was really hoping to get out of my first trimester (which ends Thursday! Come on! SO CLOSE.) without gaining anything. But, I must remember that this is an arbitrary goal I unnecessarily set for myself and not meeting it doesn’t mean I’m already failing as a parent. Evidently, it means I’m winning as a parent. I’m supposed to gain weight when I’m pregnant.

In related news, I’m wearing my BeBand for the first time today. I’ve decided that this thing is magical. My pants aren’t buttoned or zipped but SOMEHOW they’re staying up on my body. Also, my abdomen isn’t screaming at me in pain. That’s right. I’m at work, sitting at my desk, and MY PANTS AREN’T BUTTONED OR ZIPPED. And it feels freaking awesome.

I suppose the whole point of the BeBand is so I can wear my pants unbuttoned and unzipped and no one will be the wiser. So, posting a blog about it probably wasn’t the smartest move. But it feels so good I just can’t help it.

— Lindsay

Busted

30 Dec

The pregnancy isn’t exactly public yet. All the important people know — family, really close friends, a handful of people at the church, etc. — but I still haven’t broken the news to my employer or coworkers yet (or Facebook, for that matter, and you know nothing is official till it’s on Facebook.)

Because it’s the week after Christmas and the week leading up to New Years, business has been pretty slow. Not only has my workload dramatically decreased over the past few days, but the office is quite sparsely populated as well. So, naturally, I’ve been taking it easy this week. (Read: kind of sort of maybe kind of slacking off a little bit. BUT JUST A LITTLE BIT.)

Yesterday, I finished everything on my to-do list around 4pm, which left me a good solid hour or so before I was to clock out for the day. I leaned back in my chair, turned the music up in my headphones, and started browsing Old Navy’s website for maternity clothes. (I suppose you can already see where this is going.)

About a half hour later, when my online cart was filled to the brim with tunics and full panel maternity jeans, I felt a tap on my shoulder. I snapped my head around to see our office manager standing in my cubicle with her arm extended, clutching my paystub. Behind me, my giant PC monitor displayed several rows of maternity clothing items in my size. Yikes. My face flushed. I could tell she’d been standing there a while.

“Oh thanks,” I said sheepishly as I took my stub.
“Sure, no problem,” she replied, darting her eyes all over my face and cubicle in an attempt to not focus on the screen. For a split second, I thought she didn’t notice what I was shopping for.
“Oh, um,” she stuttered, “since you’re the only one here, can you hold on to the paystubs for the rest of the people in marketing and I’M SORRY BUT ARE YOU PREGNANT?”

Busted.

My cheeks burned. For a moment, I thought about lying and saying I was doing some late Christmas shopping for a friend. But, being three weeks away from the end of my first trimester and feeling my abdomen expanding ever so slightly, I figured it wasn’t worth the trouble to lie.

“Yes, yes I am,” I finally admitted. “But I haven’t told anyone here yet since I’m only ten weeks. I want to wait until the second trimester to break the news. So you’re the only one who knows.”
“Well, your secret’s safe with me,” she promised.

I hope she’s telling the truth.

— Lindsay