Comfortable

I realized last night that I can't lay in any one position for more than a half hour without my joints stiffening up, which means I get to hobble to the bathroom in the middle of the night now. What am I, ninety? And because I'm so big, it takes me nearly five minutes and lots of pillow-rearranging to roll to my other side. These next few weeks are going to go by slowly, I think.

***

A few mornings ago, Craig got up, looked back at our bed with all the pillows hidden under the blankets and commented that it looked like there was a third person in our bed.

"There is, remember?" I told him. He didn't think I was nearly as hilarious as I thought I was.

***

According to my doctor, Lucky is head-down. I'm already dilated to a 2, and I'm 70% effaced. (If you don't know what any of that means, it's probably a case of TMI anyway, so don't bother looking it up.) And the gestational diabetes warning signs are gone. (Craig says this means I need to keep being good. Darn it.) And last night, after spending an evening scrubbing the baby carrier while Craig worked on our shower, I insisted at 9:00pm that Craig set up the baby's crib. He looked at me and said, "You really are nesting, aren't you?"

Yes. Yes, I am. And while I realize we won't really need the crib for at least a few weeks until after the baby comes and it really wasn't that urgent of a task to be done, it somehow just felt very wrong to not have the crib all ready and in place. You know what I mean?

***

27 days (maybe less?) to go.