The biggest item on our agenda, after securing a place for Junior to sleep, was a place to put his stuff: a dresser. Aaron and I had been hitting the antique mall every Sunday after Starbucks, checking Craigslist, scouring the thrift stores… until finally we got a solid lead.
Two-piece baby furniture set, the listing read, for $65 total.
We arranged to drive out past Perrysburg to see the furniture in its native habitat, and when we got there (and a prettier Middle Of Nowhere I haven’t seen in some time), we agreed that the four-drawer dresser and three-drawer changing table were exactly what we needed. The seller was kind enough to load them into his truck the next day and deliver them to our house after work for no additional charge — and by Thursday evening, we had a place for Junior’s stuff.
I spent a little time Sunday evening getting his stuff into the dressers, at which point I realized that Junior’s gonna need some more stuff. But all the stuff he’s already managed to accumulate is put away.
As for me, physically, I’m still not quite miserable yet. My feet and hands are swelling — so much, in fact, that I’ve given up on wearing my wedding band and engagement ring and have swapped them for Aaron’s high school class ring, which is a size or so bigger. My lower back is stiff sometimes, and my hips take turns with my knees to ache enough to keep me up at night (yes, despite a pillow between my knees). My right knee is feeling the excess weight and lack of glucosamine/chondroitin supplements, crunching and squeaking with every deep-knee bend and stair step.
I’m keeping my weight gain steady and controlled and healthy; I’ve gained just over 20 pounds so far during the whole pregnancy. The last time I weighed this amount was when I joined Weight Watchers in April 2008. Luckily, I’ll drop a good ten pounds when I deliver, so getting back to where I was shouldn’t be a problem. In fact, I’m not really worried about that at all. I’m mainly just irritated at the pregnancy symptoms that I know are due to (or exacerbated by) weight gain.
Next OB appointment is tomorrow; they’re every two weeks now. Kiddo has been bumping and grinding on a regular basis, shoving what I assume is his ass up against my ribcage, so I expect my doctor to make comment (as she always does) about how active he is.
Eight more weeks; less than two more months. I’m trying to savor this last bit of time and commit everything to memory. These months have flown by so fast.