It's official. I'm waddling.
Holy pressure downstairs. The doc continues to tell me that since my ute has been used and abused - well, not exactly his words - pressure, pain and waddling are here to stay until the end. Cheers to second babies!
The past week has been eventful. I've been having irregular contractions, aforementioned pressure coupled with an insomniac two year old make for fun days.
I'm not all piss and vinegar, Friday's appointment went well! Deuce is tipping the scales at an impressive 6lbs 3oz. Right on track with Fal in the growth department - if Deuce delivers at 38 weeks, too, then they'll be about the same size. Assuming I don't go into my 44th week of pregnancy, my irrational fear of a 10 pounder has been squashed. Not to worry, I've covered that base already. The hubs has agreed to put me out of my misery if I'm still pregnant at that point. :)
I'm also 1cm dilated and 10% effaced. Honestly, with all the pressure I've been feeling I was kinda expecting to be a teensy bit further along. YAY for any progress though!!
Other than feeling like I just completed my 3rd day of hell week for field hockey in college, I'm doing okay. I just wish I was able cure the achy back and legs like I did in the days of yore; pour a niiiiice cocktail and hop in the neighbor's jacuzzi. For now, I'm going to kick up my feet and enjoy my sugar-free/fat-free chocolate pudding with blueberries and strawberries. Somehow it just doesn't sound quite as glamorous, does it?