Full term.  Full term full term full term!  When I think of what this week of pregnancy was like for me, that’s what comes to mind.  Just an overwhelming feeling of relief that we made it to full term, and that Squishy is welcome to make his debut any time he likes.

This is also the week Wes got himself a job offer, so maybe the relief is bleeding over from that too.  Either way, I’m feeling good.  The nursery is done, the baby clothes and cloth diapers are washed, the carseat is installed, and we’re officially ready.

Of course, I’d still like Squishy to stay put until after Valentine’s Day.  I’ll have all my work wrapped up, he’ll have had time to chub up, and we’ll have finished our birthing classes.  We’ll see if he decides to cooperate.

Squishy is doing really well this week.  I think he was having a growth spurt last week, because he was pretty mellow, but he’s back to his usual antics this week.  Lots of lovely kicks and knees to the ribs, still more pummeling from his tiny hands as I’m drifting off to sleep.

My midwife, during my weekly check-up, remarked that he still feels really long to her.  Even though his head is very far down in my pelvis his little butt is still tucked up firmly by my ribs.  I’m not growing out, I’m growing up!  My uterus has grown so far up into my ribcage, in fact, that she can no longer properly measure the top of it because it’s stuck under my ribs.

This is exactly as comfortable as it sounds.

Things I can no longer do:

• Check my blind spots while driving without pinching an important organ with my ribs
• Laugh without pain (apparently you can actually tear the muscle that holds your diaphragm against your ribs. Who knew?)
• Sit up straight (must have back arched at all times or face the wrath of my organs)
• Sleep the night through (after the second bathroom break I can’t fall back asleep)
• Wear my largest maternity jeans (they’re too tight across the top of my uterus!)

I had a dream about Squishy this week.  I dreamed that he was here, and had long blond hair and the brightest blue eyes ever.  I handed him off to someone to hold, and the guy returned my baby to me, only my baby was a fried egg.  I wrapped the fried egg in a blanket and then I woke up.

Not sure what that means.  I severely doubt that our baby will be blond, but it’s not outside the realm of possibility thanks to a great many members of my family on my mother’s side being blond.  I’ve prepared Wes for the fact that it’s entirely possible for two dark-haired parents to produce blond offspring, lest he start getting ideas about me and the mailman.

I suppose the thing I’m feeling most right now is peace.  I’m at peace.  Wes has an excellent job, our nursery is ready for this little man to come home, my body is doing a fabulous job taking care of my baby (seriously, this has been the model pregnancy. My blood pressure is low, no swelling, iron levels look good, no diabetes.  Believe me, I know exactly how lucky I am) and I’m almost ready to give Squishy the all clear to come out.

Almost.  He just needs to give me a few more days and then we’ll be home free.  Of course, it’s entirely possible that I’ll start my maternity leave on the 15th, thinking the baby could come any time, and then not go into labor until March.  We’ll see how peaceful I’m feeling then.

It’s kind of funny how quickly my outlook on this whole “We’re having a baby in a month” situation can change.  Earlier this week I was having a major meltdown, convinced that nothing was going to get done in time.  My feelings regarding the imminent birth of my child were closer to dread than delight.

Last night, however, I had a chance to do a load of baby clothes.  Just one load.  But that’s all it took to change my outlook.  I feel much better now.  I still have two other loads to do, and we still need to go shopping for cloth diapers, but we’re getting both of those taken care of tomorrow.

It’s a good thing too, because even though I feel like I have the preparations fairly well in hand (thanks to one measly load of laundry being done. I never claimed to be rational, folks) I feel like things have taken a turn toward getting down to some serious business.  By this I mean I’m starting to wonder whether we’ll be making it to my due date of February 24 after all.

At my midwife appointment on Wednesday, she mentioned that his head was down really low.  I can definitely tell.  The bones in my pelvis are shifting, and I can tell this because when I walk my hips move a lot differently than they used to.  I’m not waddling at all, but whereas I used to walk with my feet in a straight line, now my feet pursue separate, albeit parallel, paths.

There are times when his head scrunches really far down and the pressure on my bladder is simply incredible.  I haven’t had any incontinence issues (thank you, Kegel exercises!) but the sensation definitely takes my breath away.  The Braxton Hicks contractions have also started picking up, and whereas before I couldn’t actually feel them unless I poked my belly, now they feel like tightness around my whole middle.

I also have far less endurance than I have ever had.  Before pregnancy I could clean the whole house single handedly from top to bottom, wash and fold three loads of laundry, change the sheets on the bed, and go grocery shopping all before coming home and making dinner.

Now, I have to break up my tasks into sitting tasks and standing tasks.  If I do too many standing tasks in a row, I get winded and my belly starts getting really tight from Braxton Hicks contractions.  I have to sprinkle sitting tasks in between my standing tasks, which means I can get approximately .08% as much done in a day as I used to be able to accomplish.

Wes doesn’t mind, and in truth has been the consummate perfect husband this entire pregnancy.  He helps out without asking, volunteers to do things around the house that he knows I have trouble with, and lets me nap on his shoulder even when he really has to go use the restroom or needs more water to drink.  He’s made pregnancy as easy on me as it could possibly be, and for that I will be eternally grateful.

As for darling Squishy, we’re both running out of room.  His movements are much less grandiose, though not at all less painful.  The top of my uterus now comes to the very bottom of my ribcage, so his little body parts of mystery make frequent bizarre contact with my ribs.  Needless to say, I’m doing a lot of sitting bolt upright in an effort to keep his preciousness away from important parts of my physiology.

He’s started doing this adorable thing right at bedtime though, and I have to document it for posterity.  Right after I lay down with my pillow armada, he starts punching me.  It doesn’t hurt, but I can tell it’s his tiny little baby hands and they make these rapid, tiny little punches to whatever side is lowest.  It’s like he’s using me like a speed bag at a gym, and he does it every night.

My favorite part of our 32 week ultrasound was seeing his tiny little baby hands up close to his face.  Every time I get stressed, I think of those precious little fingers that I can’t wait to kiss and it makes everything better.  The fact that he reminds me of those hands every night before I go to sleep is a definite plus and makes waking up a few times a night totally bearable.