Holy. Shit. We are now in the single digits in terms of Dubya’s weeks ‘til arrival (well, assuming she arrives right on the dot, which probably isn’t happening). Along with hitting 31 weeks today, my OB had me come in for my 30-week checkup (a week late; I’m not sure why).
Anyhow, Dubya was trucking along in there, still doing cardio with a heart rate in the 140s. My OB said she’s hanging around my belly button, which makes complete sense; I feel her pushing out against that area lot. While my belly button is (barely) an innie, the skin around there feels pretty stretched and tight. She’s also kicking me up high on the right side while head-butting me down low. She’s having a ball in there.
Excitement is picking up (not that it wasn’t high already). I feel like I’m visibly bigger each week, which means she’s bigger. I think about those chubby cheeks, that button nose, those delectable fingers and toes all the time! I know it’s going to be rough, those first months, and I’m about to face my toughest boss ever. But I’m eager to be there for her, as is my husband (who will be taking at least six weeks to be with us).
In terms of getting ready for her, we’ve (finally!) arranged for our furniture delivery for this coming weekend. I can’t wait to squee over her room. The rug we bought should be here today. Once the rug and furniture are in place, it’s time to concentrate on decorating the room, which will be hella fun. We’ll be putting together all her baby necessities, taking advantage of our Amazon completion discount, and making sure her clothes are washed and ready for use.
Lastly, last weekend, my husband felt Dubya for the first time. He’s been a little hesitant with my belly. He is gentle with it (saying he doesn’t want to accidentally squeeze her out; yeah, agreed, makes no sense), but I also suspect he was kind of weirded out by the idea of being kicked. But Dubya seems to dance up a storm right around the time he comes home and starts talking with me.
We were on the couch last Friday, chatting about our days, Dubya doing a little jig. They were strong kicks, too — I know better than to give too much agency, but it’s like she wanted to be noticed. After a few wallops, I took my husband’s hand and placed it on my belly. He looked a little apprehensive, but smiled when he felt the first kick. I could tell he was surprised by how forceful it was, but he decided to tease her. He leaned closer and said, “Is that all you’ve got, W____?”
She kicked again, harder this time. Hell no, daddy, that’s not all I’ve got!
Just wait until she gets here.