This is what it's like to be 9 months pregnant.

I'm cranky, nearly all the time. Not just cranky, but indignant if someone crosses me. I have never in my adult life felt so damn entitled to my feelings. In some ways this is a nice thing (I can demand someone give me a seat and I don't feel one tiny bit bad about it, which before this I would have), and I'm sure I'm learning valuable fierce mama skillz for when I have a wee one to protect (outside of my belly, I mean). On the other hand, well, let's just say poor, poor Tim.

What's nice is that I *think* I'm reasonably pleasant/ nice to my friends whom I don't live with. I can be socially acceptable for short stretches of time :-)

I'm on maternity leave, so sometimes I can sleep in. Other mornings, I am just uncomfortable (or have a near-migraine headache from sleeping on my left side, which is a pregnancy side-effect only I seem to have), or just can't sleep and I get up around 5 am. Bed is not my favorite place, as no where else do I feel like quite such a beached whale as when I'm trying to maneuver around with a sheet, comforters, two body-pillows (which they make for women who are 5'3", not 5'8"), two to three regular pillows (to make up for the body pillows short comings), a stuffed rhinoceros, a huge stuffed panda and a tempurpedic neck pillow or two. Turning over while reclining means pelvic pain (which is a polite euphemism if I've ever heard one), possible tummy twinges, getting out of breath, possible neck pain... it just sucks. Yet I can't sleep all night on just one side, or my shoulder will hurt, and when you're this pregnant you can't be on your back for very long w/out cutting off blood flow through your vena cava, so I have to turn over many times a night. Also, I have to pee every 2 hours, and though sometimes I can sleep a bit longer than that, there's nothing sadder than a very pregnant woman trying to hurry, cramped over, to the potty at 4 am.

That said, when I'm not adrift in a sea of bedding, I'm actually reasonably agile. I can still bend down and pick stuff up off the ground (I don't like doing it, but I can). I'm still the most flexible person in my prenatal yoga class (hip-wise at any rate), including the instructor. I get winded easily, and I don't enjoy living on the third floor of a walk-up, but I can do it, sometimes in one go. If I cared, I could even shave most of my legs (but I stopped caring about two weeks ago).

It is, however, ridiculously easy to overdo it. Two weeks ago or so I went on the hospital tour, which consisted of 8 pregnant women, all in their third trimester (if not in their last month) and their support people. Every room we went into had 2-3 chairs, which we all tried to politely dive for as we entered. It was an hour of standing, walking, and hoping to sit for a few minutes here and there, and it was *hard*. After, I went to the grocery for a quick trip, followed by sorting in the baby nook at home (during which I sat and rested every 5 - 10 min). That night, bright red spotting, panic, calls to labor and delivery (I'm fine, baby's fine). I was admonished that I'd done too much that day, and that I had to take it easy these days. Huh. I had had no idea I was that fragile. I feel tired, but not *that* fragile.

However, I am trying to take it easy. I give myself one or two easy tasks a day. I try to get out of the house, but not over-schedule. There's still lots to be done, but for the most part, I think if he comes soon we'll be ok. Mentally, emotionally, I'm not sure I'm ready to have the baby, but our house is (getting) in order and my body is clearly gearing up for the big event. He's due in a week, though since it's my first I'll almost certainly be 5-10 days late, and at this point I'll take the time. Other women, at this stage, are done done done with being pregnant, and while I am definitely looking forward to meeting our baby, dressing him in adorable outfits, cooing at him, being amazed by his tiny accomplishments, not to mention being able to exercise hard, turn over without pain, climb stairs without having to rest afterwards, etc., I don't think I'll mind being pregnant for another two weeks if I have to be. It's only two weeks, and as much as I can't wait to meet the little guy, I want things to be as perfect as possible for him when he comes home with us.