My Pregnancy Christmas Wishlist:
1. For everyone to stop asking me when I’m due.
I know people are just trying to make pleasant conversation, but it’s annoying. I feel like I should wear a sign that says, “I’m due in February.”
As an aside, I remember with my first pregnancy—whenever someone would ask when I was due, I would tell them January 10. My exact due date. With pregnancies two and three, I was a little more vague and would answer, “In the middle of August,” or “At the end of March.” Here in pregnancy No. 4, when someone (and by someone, I mean everyone on planet earth) asks when I’m due, I tell them, “In February.” Which is true, if not overly specific. And if someone asks for a more specific time-frame, I usually go with “mid-February” … because sometimes I can’t remember off the top of my head exactly which day in February.
2. For my heartburn to GO AWAY.
I’ve had heartburn in all of my pregnancies, so this is nothing new. I eat TUMS like they’re candy, but that doesn’t make it any less unpleasant. Yesterday, I was grocery shopping when I had an especially bad flare-up. The taste of vomit in my mouth was so strong that I started coughing uncontrollably. Which only make the taste worse. Which made me cough even more. Thankfully, I was in Walmart … so I didn’t stand out as particularly strange among the clientele.
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3. For my ankles to stay the way they are.
For now, my ankles are not swollen. But I know their time is coming. At some point in all of my pregnancies, my ankles have ballooned up so that they are equal in size to my lower calf. It’s disgusting and always makes me feel super unattractive, even though I realize that most people aren’t looking at my ankles (especially during winter when, you know, I’m forced to wear pants).
4. To remember to cherish this time while it lasts.
Yes, I just used the word “cherish.” (Excuse me while I throw up in my mouth a little on account of my own cheesiness.) But I mean it. With work and life and three little kids who are outside of their minds excited for Christmas (well, at least two of them are. The 20-month-old is mostly just excited because she got a candy cane of her own after dinner last night), it can be pretty easy to forget that there’s a tiny little person growing inside me.
At the end of the day, when everyone is finally in bed, the dishes are done, backpacks are packed, lunches are made for the following day and I’m finally able to sit down … that’s when Baby No. 4 comes to life. I sit on the couch, enjoying every kick, roll and punch from within. Because I know they won’t last forever. And while I want to punch people who use words like “cherish” and “blessing” to describe, well, anything, I must admit that I am beyond thankful to have this baby in my belly. And while I will miss feeling the kicks, pokes and punches when the baby does get here, I am also pretty excited for this peanut to join our circus of a family.