this past week

I've had a lot of fun teaching art to all the kids I don't normally have, so my little country school can graduate its seniors (because they have to have an art credit to graduate and the super intendent prefers to keep not one, but three FFA teachers on staff rather than a liberal arts teacher. Nathan has seemed to drop as far as he can go though, so walking around school was difficult (my tummy is now resting, seriously RESTING, on the tops of my legs) and it is making me worried that I won't be able to work my last two weeks. So tonight, I'm planning out everything I can and trying to get the yearbook finished, just in case I have to stay home. I would be a little sad to not have my students for these last two weeks, but then, it would be a little nice too. ;)

checking out the maternity ward

is a little scary.
Both Andy and I had deer-in-the-headlights looks on our faces because actually being in the hospital, and pressing the button to be admitted into the room, and looking at the birthing room with the weird bed, and the surgery room with the weird equipment, and being told way too much information, and filling out your son's birth certificate, is all a little overwhelming.

I was scared the second I sat in one of the recovery rooms with a nurse to fill out paper work. Andy was scared the second he was in the birthing room, which I understand, because actually thinking about watching your spouse go through pain, while being told how it is your job to go get me jello and sprite, and how you can sleep on the fold-out couch in the room (all while praying that the baby doesn't come until you've finished your thesis), must be a little freaky. The nurse even showed us how they dim the lights once mommy (me in this case) begins to push. Why then I wonder? I thought it was the part of labor right before pushing that was the worst.

Anyway, I'm sure no trip to the hospital will quite be like the one today. We'll probably both be scared when we actually go, but, I hope, not quite so scared.

vienna-sausage toes

I four weeks left! Or six, if God thinks I can handle it, but I might be irritated at him... (did you hear that?). My feet, and therefore toes, are so swollen that they look like a fat baby's feet. You know where you can't see your ankles at all, nor the fine bones that usually show at the tops of your feet?
And I'm getting so excited about holding Nathan and all that comes with having him outside my body that I'm reading every little sign my body gives and hoping that it means I'm going to labor in the next ten minutes. It's silly, a little frustrating, and a little fun. Oh, and only fifteen teaching days left for me.... FIFTEEN!

"Just because you're pregnant doesn't mean you have to eat like a horse."

These words of wisdom coming from a sixteen year old punk who spends all of 45 minutes with me whining about my forcing him to learn. Whew! He's lucky that end-of-the-pregnancy nasty attitude I've heard of hasn't come (except when I'm sleepy), because I might have said something back. Luckily, two days later, he came in to my class with his skin as orange as a baby who eats only carrots. Apparently, his "buddy convinced" him to go tanning. Suuuuuuure.

I've finally gotten stretch marks on my belly. It was a sad morning when I woke up and saw that ten or so magically appeared. It made me sad, because I was proud of my smooth, hard, pregnant belly, even if only Andy and I saw it, and now it is marred with purple streaks. At least I've read that they'll fade eventually. I am getting sick of carrying around this extra weight though. And I feel bad about complaining about it when I wanted it so much, but lately I have been feeling pretty puny.
My feet and hands get swollen (but my blood pressure is usually low, so apparently it isn't a problem except that it hurts), my stomach hurts a lot, and I feel queasy. I've also been blessed with some Braxton Hicks (thank you Dr. Tom, for not calling them fake, but instead saying, "so you've begun getting contractions.") which gives you shots of pain at the top of your belly that quickly moved down. And menstrual-like cramps. I almost forgot what those felt like and so I had to give a few thanks for the lack of a period for the past eight months.
I know that these pre-labor contractions don't do much to dilate me, and therefore move me toward the finish line, but I'm hoping they will soon and that Nathan won't decide that he wants to linger in mommy's warm water-bath.