We’re staring down the 31 week mark coming on Wednesday, and I have a feeling that the next nine weeks are when this movie gets reallllllly good. Regarding the check-up, I had actually gained some weight since the last visit (err, rather, since the last few months), which is totally reassuring that the baby is growing, and I’m not going to give birth to the world’s smallest human, or a squirrel. My stats were good, we heard the heartbeat, and chalked some of the weight gain up to a wee bit of swelling in my hands and feet. I’ve preemptively taken my wedding band off, just in case. It gets tight in warm weather anyhow (much like it almost falls off in cold weather), so it’s tucked away in a safe place until my body gets back to normal. It’s a really freakish feeling (and a little sad) to take it off after five years of wearing it every day.
Thursday of this week also kicks off our childbirth preparation classes, occurring once a week for six weeks, which will include a tour of the hospital, plus lessons on how not to kill the baby. Perfect. We’re planning on pushing Vegas out the old fashioned way, yet with the aid of modern medicine (i.e. Mr. Epidural). And mostly, our plan is leaving the hospital with a baby, so however that comes about, cigars all around. Next week, we have a double-whammy with our weekly class, plus a supplemental breastfeeding class on Monday. That’s a lot of baby classes, man.
So far, so good, folks.