40 weeks of pregnancy

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. 


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