When you're eight months pregnant, what do you do?

I have officially went into another phase of my pregnancy. I can't sleep for more than thirty minutes without waking up. If I stand for more than ten minutes, I feel nauseated and hot. I hate going to bed because every part of my body hurts when I sleep. I'm up until 1 in the morning watching endless zombie and Halloween flicks on AMC, FX and SyFi. (Don't ask why I like scary movies, my husband doesn't understand either. I have to literally make him watch them with me.) And the infomercials on at 1 in the morning are not much better: dehydraters, plastic wall moldings, The Magic Bullet, The Baby Bullet, and the Thunder Coat for Dogs. Not that I watch them for more than five minutes.

Yes, the world of the midnight, early morning people who are up and about (usually in a recliner) is not a fun world to be in. The television sucks, everyone in the house (including the pets) are either snoring or dead asleep. And I am here, waiting. Waiting for five weeks to come so I can breathe and sleep again. But it is part of the journey, right? I know I sound like I'm complaining a lot. But being eight months pregnant is hard. You're more than ready to get the job done.

I went to another ultrasound last week and the baby is NOW 7 lbs. 10 ounces. The doctor said I'm just going to have a big baby. Maybe he's going to be as tall as a basketball player, who knows? Our daughter is really tall. The doctor isn't worried about diabetes because he said the head and stomach are the same size. Meanwhile, I guess it's back to sitting in a chair, waiting for a contraction to start.

If only men knew what they were missing.

It's a Boy!

I had another ultrasound. It's a boy! The tech even gave me an ultrasound picture with the "thing" blown up and the word BOY typed in beside it. As if I need a visual. Oh well, I guess I can pull it out when he is older and embarass him.

I haven't blogged in a long time because I went from "oh this pregnancy isn't so bad, maybe I'll do it again," to "what the hell just happened." I feel like an inflated helium balloon is sitting under my chest. I have to turn over throughout the night because I am so uncomfortable and when I flip over it's not easy to carry a big baby/stomach with it so where I land is where I land. So Stephane, poor guy, is sleeping with his head at the end of the bed and his feet are where his head is supposed to be just in case I land on him. And then he cannot have any of his body touching my sore stomach so there you go. Not to mention the two 15 year-old cats want their fair share of the bed somewhere in the mix.

I went to the ultrasound doctor last week and he said the baby is measuring 2 weeks early or larger than what it usually should be. Plus, I have more amniotic fluid than normal. He said I could have diabetes (which is something you can get just while you are pregnant) or the baby is just going to be big. Olivia was 8 lbs 15 ounces and I've had two diabetic tests already which turned out negative. So hopefully, he's just goinig to be a big boy. But on the otherhand, the thought of having a large baby at delivery won't exactly feel well. Thank goodness, I'm getting an epidural! But those do eventually go away.

Anyway, I have a few more stories or happenings coming your way once I have some more time. Like, how this nice passer-by decided to pick ALL the cherries off our tree and ran away with them tucked in her shirt.

Until then -