This Is What 35 Weeks Does NOT Look Like On Me

I am huge. I am swollen. I am sweaty and sticky and rubbing together. I have body parts that have never been introduced to each other and they are now happily stuck together in a sweaty love affair. Unwillingly at first, but getting used to it now. I consider the heat before I do anything. And usually can talk myself out of most anything because of it. I am unreasonable. And forgetful. And short tempered. And impatient. And miserable because I know all of this. I am restless. Tired. Anxious. And finished. And I still have a month to go.

I wake up from sleeping on six pillows, two propped between my legs just to avoid rolling over from the weight of my belly or the weight of my huge ass pulling me from side to side, and I am still tired. I pee on a regular schedule and it is less than one hour intervals. I dream psychotic dreams when I do manage to fall asleep at all. I hate night time. And while I lay there awake, I just think about how badly I need this sleep because the baby isn't going to sleep. Ever. And then I just get pissed and move to the couch or recliner or even the kids bedroom and think about how great it's going to be to not be pregnant again. Ever.

Every time I go anywhere, somebody asks me all cheery, "Oh, cute! When are you due?" To which I force myself to answer civily that my due date is September 25th. They then either squeal a little bit or jump a little bit and cheer me on like it's not that far away. Not that far away? How long has it been since they were so fat and hot and sweaty that they had to apply deoderant to body parts that stick together and baby powder to other parts that rub together because of the 50 pounds that I have managed to pack on for this kid? Have they worn a winter coat and went to Albertsons when it's 98 degrees with a 3 year old in a walking cast and a 5 year old telling you every move to make? Have they sat on the edge of a pool in a swim suit trying not to traumatize the onlookers by holding onto the bottom of your tankini to avoid the belly popping out and scaring the small children? Have they tried every possible remedy for water retention only to keep getting fatter and fatter toes? I am seriously down to two pairs of nasty ass plastic white trash flip flops right now. I do not fit into anything. I have out grown my maternity clothes. And yet, I am still trying to get dressed, wear make up and keep it on my sweaty face. I feel so bad for the people who have to be around me right now because I am at the end of my positive attitude rope. In fact, I"m pretty sure I'm not even hanging onto the end of it any more. I am done. And yet, I still have 4-5 weeks left. Topped off with natural, drug free labor for the third time. Nothing like knowing what's coming and going for it anyways. And that's my gripe for the evening.