Knocked-Up Chronicles: 31 Weeks

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Thirty-one weeks. That means, since my doc likes to get baby boys to at least 38 weeks, I effectively have seven to nine weeks left. Whew. It's becoming more and more of a ride on the strugglebus, especially as the air quality and allergens have been really bad lately and there's nothing I can do about it. The heat's also been insanely uncomfortable — and I can usually tolerate heat, but #MFE even had to talk me in to going to Waterworks last weekend just to sit in the lazy river … and I've never had to be talked into going swimming in my life. I'm experiencing more pains from my joints spreading and in general, it hasn't been super fun. But at least there's AC, the Internetz, streaming channels and books.

As promised, I'm taking a page out of my rad homie Cris from Kiss My Tulle‘s book (who took a page from Little Baby Garvin) and will do my damndest to post weekly updates … because someone out there might give a shit and want to know what's going on with this whole thing.

How far along? 31 Weeks
Total weight gain/loss: Last appointment said 18 pounds, I'm gonna tag another four on top of that so let's go with 22.
Maternity clothes? It's been hot as hell, so I've been all about these tanks from Target and shorts — also from Target.
Stretch marks? Still not super obvious.
Sleep: Ugh. At this point, I'm just considering it practice for #babything. My knee, which I've torn the meniscus on a few times, locked up the other night. Last night, my hip was killing me. And I have to pee more frequently. Plus, I've been having wedding nightmares, which are causing general anxiety.
Best moment this week: I got a 75 minute prenatal massage and it was the best thing ever. My left shoulder is perpetually tight from what I call “conference shoulder” — or carrying around my kinda heavy laptop in my big ol' purse for hours on end — and she worked the hell out of it.
Miss Anything? Feeling normal. Being able to stay up late to see shows. Having any kind of motivation. 
Movement: He's rockin' and rollin' and making sure I know he's there. Dude, I KNOW.
Food cravings: Topo Chico still reigns. I've been eating a lot of quesadillas, too, but nothing that I'm like craving-craving.
Anything making you queasy or sick: I get the occasional bout of nausea, and it'll either pass or send me running for the john. There's no rhyme or reason to it, but it sucks.
Gender: Still a dude.
Labor Signs: Hell no. Thank goodness.
Belly Button in or out? In, but it's flattening out.
Wedding rings on or off? On, but I find myself switching it to another finger to give my ring finger a break fairly often.
Happy or Moody most of the time: Happy, mostly, but anxious this week.
Looking forward to: My friend in knocked-up crime went into labor today, so I'm excited to meet her little #hashtag. Also, the Red Sox are playing the Rangers this weekend, and while we unfortunately won't be going to any games, we will be finding a spot to watch them and engaging in a little friendly rivalry.

In other news, we got a couple of things for the house this week that really ramp up our level of adulting, including a round 1950s-style table and chairs — complete with blue vinyl — and this rad armoire thingy that has a fold-out table where we plan on keeping all of #babything's, well, things. We have a little more work to do and a few more odds and ends to procure, but everything is coming along nicely.


Author: Christen Moynihan