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.