SHE's here!

Just a quick pause to introduce you to Gabrielle Shae, born 3/25/15 at 8 lbs. 5 oz.! Now, go give your mom a hug because childbirth HURTS! I'm off to nap...

Bumpdate: Week 39 (The '40 divided by 4 = WTF' edition)

Wait. It's going to come out of where???

Nine months. Nine months. Nine months. That's all you ever hear. There was even that movie with Hugh Grant and Julianne Moore... which I thought I liked, but there's a scene where Julianne's character tries to get rid of Hugh's character's cat because she's totally jelly that it's way cuter than her and her baby. Or maybe it was because she had an irrational fear of toxoplasmosis (which, FYI, she was much more likely to get from contaminated produce or meat at her fictional grocery store). Either way, two paws down. But back to business: "nine" months are actually ten, kinda like how "morning" sickness is any damn time sickness. Dick move, preggy books.

Baby is the Size of a... mini watermelon. Ahem... mini?

Swell Hell: Le sigh. It's hard to give the middle finger when you have no feeling in it.

Weight Gain: I stopped counting.

Sleep: Well, the finish line is in sight and I still find that giant U-shaped body pillow (the one that all the preggy books said I HAD TO HAVE) to be a cumbersome, suffocating, overpriced, unnecessary, pain in my ass.

I'm looking forward to... what do you think?!? (I mean, besides pizza night.)

Bumpdate: Week 38 (Alternate Title: Revenge of the Stay Puft Marshmallow Man)

Cankles, like death and the taxman, come for us all.

Baby is the Size of a... leek. A leek? I'm assuming these leeks grow in a super GMO field that is located under a power line and watered with that ooze that mutates adolescent sewer turtles into buff ninjas.

That's Just Swell: I still have the carpal tunnel fun in my hands and wrists, with the added aesthetic pleasure of Flintstone feet.

Weight Gain: Twenty-six pounds.

Sleep: I snore now. Much apologies to DH and Wrigley, though after years of putting up with both of their massive log-sawing (yep, cats can snore)... um, #sorrynotsorry.

Pick a Bday, Any Bday: When I first found out I was preggo, I hoped for an April Fools' Day Baby ("How cute!"). Then, I rooted for March 26th, my due date ("A 26er! Just like me, my brother, my sister-in-law, and bonus, it's my mother-in-law's bday - easy gift!"). After awhile, I landed on a St. Patty's Day baby instead ("Grandpa Sweeney was a first gen American, after all!"). Now I've decided a Friday the 13th baby is the way to go. After all, it's going to be a bloody, scary and a guy with a mask will be reaching into my insides.

Best Moment of the Week: Last night, DH wrapped ice packs around my feet...

Bumpdate: Week 32 (The Ohmigosh-This-Is-Going-Way-Too-Fast-Edition)

Mere weeks away from a doctor shoving a baby in my arms, with little more instruction than "Congratulations. Try to keep it alive and from growing up to hate you."

I know I've missed a couple of weeks of these bumpdates. But as I cautioned you before, I'm very lazy. And I've been juggling the release of FIFTEEN, which is almost as exciting and terrifying as this pregnancy. (This is also my shameless, pitiful plug for you to add it, rate it, buy it, review it in exchange for my undying gratitude.)

If This Baby Was a Veggie, It Would Be A... Jicama. My God, these baby books are stupid informative.

Weight Gain: Twenty Pounds! Doc called it a "modest" weight gain, because clearly he works on tips.

Cravings: Double Decker Chocolate Cake. Which I made yesterday.

Sleep: I slept through the entire night on Sunday. When I got up, I had to pee like a [there is no ladylike simile applicable here], but it was still pretty cool.

Belly Button: Is technically not out yet, but you sure can see it underneath all of my shirts. And hey, it really does look like a button.

Symptoms: Things are still relatively easy, except I've been getting indigestion from all of my favorite foods and the occasional crippling leg cramp. Both of which my doc told me Tums will help - weird, huh?

Best Moment This Week: My husband referring to Group B as "Strep butt."

Looking Forward To: The Super Bowl! For the food, of course.