The answer is yes, yes we are. Full-term, baby! And you can stick a fork in me, because physically, I am so Done.
What to say about 37 weeks? I'm still averaging a 15-pound weight gain, which is mind-boggling to me, seeing as my nightly routine now consists of devouring as many chocolate cookies as possible while working through my collection of Friends DVDs (we just finished season 5). Over the weekend, it was Oreos. Monday? Chips Ahoy. Also puzzling is the fact that I can eat cookies, ice cream, candy, and other junk foods without trouble, but Raisin Bran, sugary kids' cereals, and any sort of fruit juice throw my system completely out of whack after just a couple of bites/drinks. What's up with that?
Speaking of food, I am ravenously hungry, so we can probably expect that weight gain to skyrocket come this time next week. Not "A Tale of Two Lunches" hungry like from my second trimester with Nathan, but on a lunch run a couple of days ago I did order one and a half roast beef sandwiches (and a bag of chips) (and a cookie) from my new favorite deli without batting an eye. I presume it will only get worse from here.
Also, I'm still generating inappropriate comments from society at large on my admittedly ginormous size. The mechanic who worked on my Cobalt last week said I looked ready to burst, and the after-hours janitor at my work, whom I had previously never met, was compelled while emptying my recycling to say that I was ready to pop AND ask if I was having twins, all in the same breath. Now that's multitasking!
Things are continuing to move along on the nesting front. Luke and I finally rearranged the toys that were wreaking havoc on our living room thanks to the spontaneous purchase of a shelving bin organizer over the weekend. Bathrooms have been sanitized, cars cleaned, pantries tidied, ceiling fixtures repaired, and nurseries finished. And tonight, we finally began packing our hospital bags. So far, all I have in there are some nursing tanks and bras, one pair of clean underwear, footies, a partially filled toiletry bag, and a breastfeeding book. We'll throw in a couple of going-home outfits for Baby Brother (one newborn, one 0-3 months, as per usual), and a beautiful crocheted blanket gifted from a coworker, but other than that, I am blanking. I know I'll need something for myself to wear upon leaving the place, but I'm not sure what that will be yet. I'll grab a notepad from work to document the entire life-changing experience, and I'm also considering picking up some Mother's Milk Tea, to "promote healthy lactation." It's a given that Luke will pack our camera, and I'll have my smartphone for sharing the big news and providing random updates (and pictures, too, once I figure out how to do that part). So if you aren't following me on Twitter or Facebook, you totally should, because I will be able to post more easily to those accounts than I will on my blog while I'm away. (Though I may attempt to bring my work laptop as well.)
Seriously, though, the hospital bag. For me, less is more when it comes to packing, especially since the majority of the time I'm just hanging out in retro-looking gowns and mesh undies and all of my food cravings will be appropriately satisfied by 24-hour room service. But am I missing anything?
Lastly, in between all the activity, Luke and I are trying really hard to make our last couple of weeks as a family of four as fun as possible. Last week I took a day off work so we could all attend Indianapolis's annual strawberry festival, and the weekend before that we drove almost an hour to participate in the city's annual "Outrun the Sun" family walk. Tumbling class started two Mondays ago, which Kara and Nathan seem to enjoy, and on Tuesday delighted in the company of Luke's parents while they paid us one last visit before their upcoming trip to Wales. Other activities include zoo trips, picnics, and an ice cream expedition to Cold Stone Creamery.
They seem to be getting the fact that the baby's almost here. Nathan has been more cuddly with me than usual, throwing his arms around my neck for minute-long hugs when he might normally dismiss me in favor of some truck or book or puzzle, and Kara has been more talkative about the whole process, stating that the doctor will "open up my belly" to take the baby out. Now, I can't remember if I introduced that phrase to her months ago or if she came up with it on her own, but either way, she's allowing the process to become more real in her mind.
She's also asked to come to the hospital when it's time to get the baby out. The kids will actually be with my dear friend Molly during that time, but Luke and I will bring them up to visit as soon as I feel ready. I remember functioning in a zombie-like state almost the entire day of Nathan's c-section, a product of drugs and euphoria and exhaustion (I literally fell asleep in mid-sentence), and I don't want them to see me like that. But we are so excited for them to meet their little brother, so we'll definitely get them up there as soon as we can.