Remember when your mom told you that if you made that face and the wind changed direction, it’d stay that way forever? That’s what being 40 weeks pregnant is like.
I am stuck like this forever.
I know that’s irrational and highly unlikely, but unless you have been pregnant for 40 weeks, you have no idea how the perpetual cycle of day-by-day feels.
It is insanely intense.
Everybody is messaging you, every day asking you how you are? Or any news? How many different ways can I answer – I’m hanging in there (I’ve cried twice and its only 10am), I’m tired (I’m pretty sure I may have cut someone off in a roundabout earlier and may have caused and accident), I feel like I’m going to pop (literally can hear the fibres of my once toned ish stomach ripping apart). The only positive out of this whole carrying-to-term experience is that I’ve been giving my previous body credit for being more toned and in shape than I ever actually saw while I had it. The ‘I’m so fat woes’ really should never have been and I’ve made many a silent promise into the mirror that should I not have fucked my stomach muscles forever and return to the state I was in before I will never disrespect my body with negative thoughts and comments as I did for most of my adult existence to date. (Not including varsity days as clearly then I gave zero fucks.)
40 full weeks of being pregnant.
The longest pregnancy of my life (obviously as it’s the only one) and the most pregnant I’ve ever been (again – an obvious statement).
I have never been more ready for the baby to come than right now.