Big enough for ya?

No, I am not concealing a globe, beachball, or prizewinning pumpkin beneath my shirt; that is my belly, now at 32+ weeks reaching mammoth proportions. It's taut as an over-inflated basketball, as my father recently observed, and sometimes I feel like the babies are straining for more room. Is it possible that I'm going to get even bigger? Yes. Sadly, yes. But get this: I AM STILL WEARING MY PRE-PREGNANCY UNDERWEAR!! Granted, not the more slight and sexy pairs -- what would be the point anyway? -- but still. My ass has not become pregnant. Not very, anyway.

Despite the joy and pride that this brings me, I am officially very uncomfortable. My back hurts almost constantly, as do the muscles over the top of my belly, particularly on the right. I feel generally stiff and unwieldy. I have to eat less and less per sitting and the heartburn is more frequent. The worst culprit, it seems, are liquids -- water, juice, etc., which fill and distend my ever-shrinking stomach. And, of course, I'm constantly thirsty which makes this oh so convenient.

But in spite of all this, I remain in good spirits, and am getting more and more excited. I'm just trying to be a trooper, get plenty of sleep, and get A. to give me lots of back rubs, which he does very willingly. (The other day, after a particularly achey, tired day, as we were settling into bed, he said "You're doing great," and it made me so happy. It's the little things...and the backrubs.) I'm really glad I've only got 2 more weeks of work; I'm ready to be lounging around in my PJs, not trying to look presentable and sit in a desk chair and uphold my reputation as a skilled professional.

Our Thanksgiving was a good one. Lots to be grateful for this year -- an uncomplicated, healthy pregnancy; the promise of two new family members; a Democratic House and Senate; health, prosperity, a peaceful existence, etc. My brother, parents, and in-laws were all here. They, and A., did the lion's share of the cooking, cleaning up, etc., while I served primarily as armchair orchestrator. ("Someone should check the broccoli. Time to start boiling the potatoes. Who's on dinner rolls? Broccoli? Status, please?) There was a palpable sense of excitement and preparation around the bambinas, and as we all said goodbye it was remarkable to note that the next time we see our parents, they will most likely be grandparents.

Wowza.

I don't have time now, but will soon post about our post-partum doula-to-be, whom we met earlier this week. Stay tuned...

(Quick fashion shout out: pants and stylish faux-suede over-shirt featured in photo are courtesy of Bihari. They will soon be passed along to the Motel Manager.)