Late Pregnancy Week 38

It looks like it has been at least nine months since my last post and so much has changed.  For one thing, I’m about a million pounds heavier (I might be exaggerating a bit) – although, in my defense, about 6 pounds belongs to the small creature swimming around inside my belly.  Sleep has become this illusive dream.  I remember sleeping 8, 9, even 10 hours a night, but I honestly can’t remember how good that felt – and I don’t even have the baby yet.  Mother Nature has a twisted sense of humor.  My hands and feet take turns competing for the “who can be the biggest” award and my lower back feels like it is constantly being stabbed.  My belly button, in a rare burst of denial, has refused to pop out although it is dangerously close to having no choice in the matter.

I have this theory that the baby won’t come until it is sure that I am excitedly awaiting this wonderful experience called labor.  I, however, am convinced that there is a reason they call it “labor” and must admit that I am probably more terrified than excited at this point.  So, baby is firmly staying put despite my best efforts to convince him that even though I am not excited about the labor, I am excited to meet him.  I use the word “him” lightly as there is no word in the English language that denotes a singular non-gender specific person (and I think he’s a boy).

I had my weekly midwife appointment yesterday and discovered that I am one of those special women who carry strep B, which means that I have to have antibiotics during the labor (something else to look forward to) and no internal exams until I am in active labor.  So, I have no idea how far dilated I am – which is frustrating when everyone pregnant around me is excitedly spouting off their numbers like badges of honor.  Adam thinks I should make something up.

In other non-pregnancy news, I have discovered the most wonderful form of poetry.  Now bear with me because this is going to sound geeky.  April is national poetry month and my school is having a “poem in your pocket” day where everyone carries a poem around in his or her pocket and shares it with whoever wants to hear it (this is not the geeky part).  In looking for a poem to carry around, I ran across this blog at: http://gottabook.blogspot.com/2006/04/fib.html  What the guy did was basically take the idea of a Haiku poem and apply it to the Fibonacci sequence.  So the first line has one syllable, the next one syllable, the next 2 syllables, then 3, then 5, then 8.  He stopped at 8, but I see no reason why you couldn’t just keep going.  He calls these poems “Fibs”.  The one that I am carrying around it:

One

Small

Precise

Poetic

Spiraling mixture:

Math plus poetry yields the Fib.

I’m excited to try to create my own Fibs (that’s the geeky part).