The Latest on Baby #2

I am 32 weeks today, and I finally realized just how huge I am. Today I went to tour the birthing facilities at the hospital, and I was there with 5 other women. The guide looked us all over and said we look about right to be expecting New Year's babies. Well, shoot. My baby's not due for another month after New Year's. Then I came home and asked Mr. Mitchell to get a belly picture since it has been awhile. I was looking at the shots he took, and I said, "Holy cow! I look so big!" His soothing response was, "Well, that's how you look right now."

We took this one first, and Mr. Mitchell told me to put my hands down so people can really see how my form is flowing these days. He really said that. I guess 'flowing' at least elicits something elegant, like a waterfall. He could have said something more along the lines of 'your elephantine figure,' but he was wise.

In my flowing, maternal glory.

Little Lady is very active at night and is getting big enough that she wakes me up in the middle of my slumbering. She has a favorite spot to stick her poky little elbow or knee or heel or whatever, and it is permanently tender. Even when she's not there pressing on it I still feel bruised. I don't have pop very often, but when I do it gets her wiggles going. She'll respond sometimes when I'm talking, but she pretty much does what she wants.

My weird, vivid celebrity dreams have begun. I dreamed last night that I was responsible for shaving Bill Murray's chest, and it was not an easy job. The man would not hold still; I was chasing him around Walmart with shaving cream and a razor. I have no idea how I landed the job of Bill Murray's Personal Chest Shaver, but I'm willing to let someone else have it.

The hospital tour today made me a bit anxious since I probably won't be in there again until I'm in a great deal of pain. I believe I got spoiled in Oregon where I was able to have Sprout in a Family Birthing Center. At this hospital I will have to switch rooms after delivery and go from a beautiful, spacious, calming room into a cramped, utilitarian room. I find myself very disappointed in that, and disappointed that the sleeping arrangements for Mr. Mitchell won't be as nice either. I will try and focus on just being grateful that I can have my baby in a hospital where we will both be taken good care of.