Incubation Baby made it to 36 weeks--a HUGE milestone!! Yesterday, my doctor finally unlocked my jail cell, handing me the keys back to my old life. As he instructed me to move around with caution and stay close to home, I strategized about planning the numerous opportunities, once again within my grasp (regular doctors appointments, dentist, haircut, organizing my nursery, nesting)! No longer do I have to depend on my mom and my husband to be at my beck and call--I can even drive within a five mile radius of my house!
Now that I am able to roam around freely, I have noticed that my body is vastly different compared to when I was first admitted to the hospital. Baby J is now the size of a watermelon and my protruding belly is no picnic. Small endeavors such as doing laundry or washing dishes leave me panting and exhausted. Between two month's of extremely limited activity and accumulating extra weight, my physical endurance is a far cry from what it was a few months ago. Yesterday, I looked at my reflection in the mirror and asked: Who is this person and what has she done with my figure?
Like Gweneth Paltrow's character in the movie Shallow Hal, I feel like I am trapped inside a fat suit. Any day now, I expect my old self to suddenly emerge when I shed my extra layer like one of Baby J's zippered onesies. Since I have been on bed rest for so long, I have not gradually acclimated to my shifting form and continually miscalculate the new parameters of my body. Last night, not accurately calculating the proximity of my desk to the closet, my belly swept over the desk, knocking off half the contents. These past couple of days, after I have administered Tiger's eye drops, I cannot lift my body from the floor and have had to crawl to the nearest piece of furniture in order to hoist myself upright. Whenever Jon is home, he acts as my human fork lift and in turn, receives his daily workout.
Baby J seems as though he is outgrowing his confines as well. I have begun noticing tiny little limbs, hands, and feet stretching my belly to its utmost capacity. His movements have become less frequent, but when they do occur, I fear that he is going to tear through my skin like Invasion of the Body Snatchers. Baby Bonaparte better be at least five pounds when I return to the perinatologist on Monday or else...!