34

The radiology tech yesterday - a big black man in his late 40s- said to me:

"We're runnin a but late. Just hang out for a few. Here, here's a chair for you, fat girl."

The two women nearby were palpably horrified, either offended themselves, or worried that I was going to burst into tears.

Not so much, friends, I bust out laughing instead, and said, "my husband calls me a fat ninja!"

The next day he pulled me aside, apologized profusely and said he talked to his sister the previous night about what he had said to me. He grabbed my hands in his and said "I never meant to be mean." I assured him, again, that I might be one of the only women in the world who is not only not offended, but even thinks it's funny! But I warned him to never call another pregnant lady "fat girl," because he risks getting cat-scratched in the face, or something to that effect.

Meanwhile yesterday two separate medical professionals, both mothers themselves, asked me how far along I was, then before I could respond guessed 24 weeks. O. M. G. If this was only 24 weeks and not 34 weeks, I'm not so sure I could handle working fulltime. I think my hips would split in half and I'd have to sneak a nap on one of the patient beds. MRSA-free, of course.

Anyway, here's what 34 weeks looks like. I certainly don't look like a ninja. Or a fat girl for that matter. But maybe a bit like I am smuggling a soccer ball under my shirt. And jello in the back of my pants.

Alex is so sweet. He randomly got me a present this week, and even wrapped it to surprise me when I got home from work the other day. It had a cute note saying something to the effect of "for you and the baby to start all your many great talks now." Any guesses for what it was? Was stumped. A stethoscope! So now he listens to the watery swooshy sounds of my womb every night before bed. It's so cute how his mouth opens into a little "oh" and his eyes kind of bug out when he gets excited to hear anything different. I'm convinced it's all gas that he hears anyway, but he swear little Frankie is communicating with us.

Alex is already becoming a little nostalgic for this pregnancy. It seems he doesn't want it to end so soon. "Right now when I cuddle you I also cuddle the baby, and vice versa," he says. "When she's born, it won't be as easy to pay attention to both of you at once. She'll cry and stuff." I probably will be crying too babe, I think. But instead reassure him that we are in for three solid weeks of all cuddling together, nonstop, with breaks for feeding and sleeping and visitors. But I can relate a little bit. I love the anticipation and hope and pondering that comes with a first pregnancy. There are just so many unknowns that make this adventure so exciting.