Walk It Off

We have come to that point in my pregnancy, my friends, that is the really scary part.

I am gigantic. Huge. Obscenely huge to be more precise. I would take a picture and show you, but I don't have a wide angle lens. Why would I want to do that anyway? I am miserable enough without having to actually see what everyone else is seeing. Instead, I will give you a visual that will help you picture me in my current state. On Sunday it was starting to snow on our way to church. Did anybody need an umbrella? Nope. All 4 kids managed to stay dry from the snow in the ample cover of my ridiculous belly. Yup. All 4. And nobody even complained that anybody was touching them, or that they were squished, or anything like that. I was like the lady in the Nutcracker who has all those acrobatic children under her skirt. Except the giant skirt was not created with massive hoops and the like. It's just my enormous belly which really did and does house all those children.

We are to the point that I am wearing the same thing every single day. Did you see me today? I'll be wearing the exact same outfit tomorrow! And, if I'm lucky and manage to not spill anything or have any grubby hands come up and grab me to climb into my nonexistent lap, I'll wear the same thing the next day, too. And if I do spill, it has to be on top of the mountain, not under the rim. If I can't see the spill from my perspective up here, it doesn't exist. Have I no shame, you ask? Nope. Not a bit, I answer. If it fits today, you bet I'm gonna wear it tomorrow. We are down to that.

Everything hurts. Every single thing. If I sit down for even just one minute, when I try to get up again my poor hips scream in protest. "How can you do this to us?!? AGAIN!!" they demand to know. And at this point, I am asking myself that very same question.

As I am hobbling around the house, trying to get something - ANYTHING accomplished, I hear my dad's voice in my head repeating over and over again "Walk it off! Walk it off!" He being a sports kind of person could bring that up whenever we were injured; along with a swift, warming rub, and enough kisses to soothe the hurt. So, that's what I am trying to do - walk it off. But in pregnancy, the phrase "walk it off" has a different definition. I will explain:

When I say "walk", I really mean waddle. Add in the pain in the hips and there is a shuffle with that. Does that mean I am waffling? Shuddling? Anyway, getting to the phone before the answering machine picks up is completely out of the question. You'll just have to keep encouraging me in your message, and I'll get there eventually.

When I say "it", I mean the baby, of course. Or in my case, either the giant, world record breaking, HUGE baby, or the 14 individual babies that are there. Did I mention that I am enormous right now?

When I say "off", I mean I am so done with being pregnant. This child has just got to come. I will take the contractions and all the fun stuff that goes along with labor just to be finished. Bring it.

Abigail came at 35 weeks and she turned out okay, right? Well, aside from being the queen of 9 year old attitudes and drama, she's okay. Besides, this baby is a boy. He'll do even better. Let's just try it. I'll give my doctor a call right now.