I haven’t done one of these in a while. I was nearly getting comfortable in pregnancy…that’s going away.

• Evil leg cramps in the middle of the night. Point and flex! POINT AND FLEX!
• Back pain like I carried a fridge up 2 flights of stairs.
• On occasion, that back pain carries from my lower back, down my butt cheek and my thigh.
• Random, sharp pains in my side if I rollover too quickly.
• Waddling. WADDLING!!!
• Rice Krispies joints. Snap crackle pop whenever I move. Especially in my hips.
• Gingivitis like mad.
• Sore, sore feet that have grown about half a size and are now considered Ws.
• Leaking boobs. TMI? TOO BAD!
• VIOLENT mood swings. When I get mad, I get REALLY mad. When I get sad, I never want to move again.
• Depression, meh.
• Having to pee every 10-15 minutes. I get in a good 20, if I’m lucky, but then he starts to dance on my bladder, which is way less fun than it sounds.
• Gas…lots and lots of gas.

My kid doesn’t move too much. He, like Gail’s Doogal, is the quiet type. Of course, this scares the living shit out of me. I’m convinced he’s either autistic or on the edge of dying at all times. Maybe all that belly laying smooshed his soft spot and, therefore, his brain. Or maybe I played the music too loud and made him deaf, so that’s why he doesn’t move ”enough” when we play music for him. It’s all ridiculous, but this is what pregnancy is. Scaring the shit out of you for no good reason.

The times when he is moving consistently, I call Eric over, “Put your hand here.” He does. Ben stops moving. I swear he does it just to make Eric think I’m insane. This kid’s already a trouble maker.

I have figured out a way to get a couple of little bumps out of him. He HATES when I put anything on my “belly shelf” – you know, the top part of the belly convenient for sitting food, drink, books, etc. – so he smacks at it. If he’s still in breech (which I’m sure he is because all the rough kicks are at my bladder still), then I’d be laying these things right on his head. That makes Ben a very angry boy, but at least I get a couple of thumps feel-able from the outside world.

What a great mom I am, right? Piss off the kid just because I need validation. Yeah, he’s not going to need therapy AT ALL.

Why must there be so many options for ONE THING?  Why has no one published a paper called, “The Crap New Parents Do Not Need, and the Crap They Do.”

Do I really need a travel system and a convertible car seat if I’m planning on carrying the kid around in a sling anyway? Can’t I just buy one of those $10 umbrella strollers instead of one of those $200, 200lbs stroller-the-size-of-a-car? Wait, no, I have to have the stroller-the-size-of-a-car because the umbrella ones don’t lay down, and babies must lay down. I’m not kidding. They really must.

What’s the point of any infant carrier, anyway, if I’m supposed to register for a convertible car seat, too? To be able to carry the kid around in it’s matching stroller and have it laying down, right? Then why does the stoller in the travel system lay down? Why must I attach an infant carrier to it instead of just using the lay down feature in the stroller and placing the kid in the convertible car seat when he must be transported? Why should I spend more for an extra infant carrier when I can only use it for a few months and it’s not necessary for proper infant stroller use? Why can’t I just buy the stroller-the-size-of-a-car and the convertible car seat and skip the travel system all together? If it’s the wrong choice, baby doesn’t lay down right, no blood gets to his head, tragic death.

Booster seats vs high chairs. WTF?! Why do we even have a choice? They both do the same thing. Just point one or the other out to me and let me buy it. I don’t need or want both. Do you think my house is the size of a small mall or what? Why do you expect that I should have to choose between the two? THEY BOTH DO THE SAME THING! I can’t make these kind of decisions, I’m pregnant. They should already be made for me. Wrong choice? Baby tips over, hits head, tragic death.

Why are there so many types of cloth diapers? Do there REALLY need to be that many? I see two that are necessary. Regular old diapers and AIO’s. What’s the point of the others? Just to drive me insane? That’s it, isn’t it? You people get off on driving pregnant women insane. WELL, THANK YOU VERY MUCH! Don’t pick the right one? Baby gets diaper rash, horrible infection, tragic death.

Pack n Play vs Bassinet. We’ll probably be co-sleeping most of the time, but we’re going to eventually move the kid into his own room, which will probably require baby in own bed in our room at first. So what do we do? Pack n Play’s bassinet only holds up to 15lbs. An actual bassinet? Up to 20. With either, we’ll eventually need a crib, either way. Pick the wrong one? Baby falls through on his face, horrible nose bleed, tragic death.

And for style. Do we get the Classic Pooh everything and hope we still like it when we have our next? Do we go all gender nuetral and hope everything’s still in good condition for the next? Do we just throw the kid in the closet and hope it learns to fend for itself because, no matter what choice we make, it’ll be wrong? And, yup, that’s right, end tragic baby death.

Your baby now weighs a little under 2 pounds and measures about 14 inches, from head to heel. The nerve pathways in her ears are developing, which means her response to sounds is growing more consistent. Her lungs are developing now, too, as she continues to take small breaths of amniotic fluid — good practice for when she’s born and takes that first breath of air. If you’re having a boy, his testicles are beginning to descend into his scrotum — a trip that will take about two to three days.

I’m depressed.

Not funny, is it? Laugh anyway, or I may sob uncontrollably for a few hours.

I’ve always had a little problem with depression, but it hasn’t been a consistent depression until recently. The hormones make me insane. Some days, I feel great. I wouldn’t say top of the world, but good enough. Any day I don’t feel like ramming my head repeatedly into a wall is a good day. Ante-partum depression, I think it’s called.

Last week I cried because Eric was grumpy, I was grumpy, dad was grumpy, and I was confronted with the super hard task of “how do I manage to do the exact same thing I do every day?” I didn’t just cry. I locked myself in the bathroom, sat on the floor and cried for an hour. Then later, I sat outside in the middle of the night and cried some more.

My days go up and down. I feel like there’s a million and one things to do and I am incapable of doing them. I can’t muster up the energy or motivation to save my life. I feel like I’m completely worthless when it comes to contributing to our home. I feel like Eric always has to take care of me and that he’s got to be sick of it. I’m always feeling insecure, alone and incapable. Most of the time, I find a way to ignore it but some days…

I’ve read that ante-partum depression is a pretty great indicator of possible post-partum depression after the baby comes. Now there’s something to look forward to.