Just Call Me Crazy

Every woman reaches a point in her pregnancy where she goes crazy. At least I do, and it makes me feel better to think everyone else does. When my mom was pregnant and reached this point she would pack up her bags to leave my dad, or start sponge painting the kitchen. Usually I only think things. For example "I know everyone says you look like you're four months pregnant after you have the baby, but I won't" or "It's a great idea to go to Supercuts for a haircut" are both things I have thought at this phase in my previous two pregnancies.

Today I was getting ready to take Kellan to the doctor (ear infection) and I was having a hard time finding a shirt that still fit. Finally I found one and looked in the mirror after I put it on. I am huge. I know I look huge when I wear Jesse's shirts around the house, but I have always figured that it was because I was wearing a big baggy man shirt. Today was the first day I was wearing a maternity shirt and thought I looked huge. (Note: My using "huge" inested of "big" is not a nuance. I've looked big since four months.) Maybe today was the first time I actually had a chance to look in the mirror after I got dressed. Either way: huge.

I was so shocked at my appearance that I started thinking. Here's how it went: "Man, I am huge. I look like I'm 9 months pregnant. I look like I'm due at any day! Am I having TWINS? No, I had three ultrasounds. They would have seen another baby during one of those. I mean, maybe I am having twins, but probaby not. What if they got my due date wrong? They just measure femur length for calculating due dates. What if I'm having a small baby and they have my due date wrong? That could make sense. Jeez, I'll bet they have my due date wrong!"

So, in the time it took me to drive Kellan to the doctor, I convinced myself that my due date is wrong. Part of me realizes that my due date isn't wrong, that I'm just enormous. But there is a small part of me--the crazy/pregnant part--that thinks they may have actually got my due date wrong. Don't tell Jesse. He's NOT patient with the crazy/pregnant part of me.

On today's docket: start packing my bags for the hospital. And...maybe make an appointment at Supercuts.