30 weeks!

30 weeks. That's 75%. When you think about it, that's a solid C. Passing, but nothing to brag about. I really want to be in the A+ range.

In baby related news, nothing too spectacular or new has been going on this past week. She is still moving around a lot, but not kicking so hard anymore. That might have something to do with the fact that she is running out of room and can't get as much force and speed on those kicks as she used to. In the next 10 weeks she's going to get very squished.

When I eat, I feel like I'm going to pop. Like, if you were to stick a pin in my belly I feel like I would pop. Like a big balloon. So uncomfortable.

Speaking of comfort, does anyone care to tell me what that feels like? I seem to have forgotten. I hurt when I lay down to sleep. I hurt when I'm sitting on the couch. I really hurt while I'm driving in the car. My back KILLS when I'm at my desk at work. I'm ok when I'm sitting on the toilet. When I walk for too long, I start to feel like someone kicked me in the crotch, really hard, and that hurts even if you're a girl.

I realized this week that I can't remember what my belly used to look like. You know, when it was flat? I thought I could stand to lose a few pounds back in January. What the heck ever, Jessica. Look at you now! Granted, I don't look bad. I'm sorry to those women who gained 80 pounds during pregnancy, but I am so glad my weight gain has been on track so far. At the beginning, I was honestly worried that my skin couldn't stretch. I mean, I know that it happens, I just couldn't imagine it.

I also don't remember the last time I zipped up a pair of pants. I'm going to be walking around with my fly down for weeks after I get out of these maternity pants. Now I just pull up and go. Like a 4 year old.

I read that Emily can see light when her eyes are open. Kind of like when you shine a flashlight through the palm of your hand- she sees the light in a red tint. You could say she sees her world through rose colored glasses right now. I like to think she's fairly content in there. I've been feeding her well. Lots of fruit, as many veggies as I can stomach (read: not many, but they're there) and the occasional (almost daily) bowl of ice cream. What a life.

She's also finally losing her body hair. According to the books I've read, up until recently she's been covered in a kind of fur, like Roger I guess. It kept her warm. Now she's starting to fatten up so she doesn't need it anymore. Go Emily! Put some meat on those bones!

Now I'm off to meet my mom to plan my wedding. Because I'm getting married. Next weekend. With a pretty dress and flowers and family and the most amazing man in the world. I can't wait.

But I am Le Tired...

Hey there 3rd trimester, I know we just met, but I think things have gotten off to a rocky start. Maybe you forgot our conversation last week? I specifically asked you (very nicely, in fact) to be kind to me. That's all I asked. But you have not been kind to me.

Yes, you are the last step before I get to meet my little girl, and I am glad that you're here. However, you did not have to give me this god awful acid reflux. I've never had it before. I didn't know what it was until a couple of days ago. I just thought everything I ate was bad and my body was rejecting it. It burns, it hurts, and the gas has got to stop. Please make it go away. If not for me, then for Chris. He really doesn't deserve to sleep in a gas chamber.

Well, sometimes he does.

If you can't do that for me, how about easing up on the exhaustion a bit? I'll admit you aren't as hard on me as 1st tri was, but you are a little trickier. 1st tri let me sleep. On my back, on my side, curled up, stretched out, even on my stomach. You aren't that nice. You don't allow me to sleep on my stomach, on my back, or even on my right side. All I get is the left side. And if that weren't enough, you make my back pain excruciating during the night. You even threw in the "wake up twice a night to pee" thing. Real funny.

Have you been plotting against me with my own daughter, 3rd trimester? She seems to enjoy kicking the crap out of my insides during those few and far between moments of actual comfortable sleep. What did you say to her? What can I do to make it stop? If you're in good with her, can you tell her that if she lets up during the night, I'll buy her a car when she turns 16? Maybe not a brand new BMW, but I promise I'll work with her.

I'm afraid I'm freezing my family out at night. You make me hot, 3rd trimester, and not in a good way. I'm already waking up for a million other things at night, now I'm waking up to turn the AC down. Even with it set at 68 and sleeping with a thin blanket, I manage to wake up covered in sweat like I just ran a 1/2 mile. Yes, 1/2 mile. Why didn't I say marathon? Because if I ran a marathon, I wouldn't be covered in sweat, I.... well, I wouldn't finish the marathon. I'd probably get about 1/2 a mile and say screw it, I'm eating a bowl of ice cream.

Here's a good one- how is it that you make me feel either drunk or hungover 75% of the time when I haven't ingested a drop of alcohol since January? I'm lightheaded. I'm dizzy. I run into things (more than normal). I forget things. The other day I ran the dryer for 30 minutes before realizing it was empty. I forget what I'm saying halfway through a sentence. I'm surprised I haven't gotten lost on my way home from work yet.

Lastly, I would like my patience back. Why would you take that from me? You know I didn't have much to begin with.

I know you don't like me. I don't really like you either. That being said, I would still appreciate you hanging around until late September. I really want to meet Emily Jean, but not too soon. You're the only thing keeping her in there until she's ready.