My obstetrician belongs to a practice of eight doctors. My initial plan was to book my appointments on varying days of the week so that by the time Willie was born, I would know all of the doctors. Instead, I was so comfortable with the Monday doctor (she is seriously rad) that I've ended up booking every appointment with her. Which is a bit silly, I know. There is a very good chance that Willie will not be born on a Monday and I will end up with a stranger all up in my junk (though I'm pretty sure that having a stranger all up in my junk is going to be the least of my worries when I'm actually in labour.)
Yesterday I was having some pain. Not the usual pain (ligament pain, back pain, hip pain, boob pain, you name it, I've had it.) This was worrisome pain (spoiler alert: everything is fine.) I really didn't want to be that pregnant lady, you know? The hysterical "mah baybeeeee" pregnant lady. So I consulted Dr. Google and confirmed that I was either totally fine or facing imminent death and went on with my day. Willie was active (more active than usual, actually) so I didn't call my doctor's office until late afternoon when the pain had spread. Which is how I ended up with a Wednesday morning doctor's appointment with a doctor I've never met before.
You guys. He was gorgeous. Like, uncomfortably attractive. Tall and dark and chiseled. The office was still locked when I arrived so I had to stand in the hallway with Dr. Beautiful and make flustered smalltalk about traffic and the weather. It was ridiculous. I am ridiculous. Ridiculous but pleased. I've been so blue lately and everything has been such a struggle. It felt really good to have a normal, awkward reaction to something that lately would have sent me into a funk. I don't know if it's the sunshine we've had this week or if it's because the move is finally over or if it's as simple as not being sick and deathy anymore but I am finally starting to feel like myself again. I'm still overwhelmed and feeling completely behind in everything (see below: week 32 photo. I am now 34 weeks pregnant) but this week I've found myself laughing in situations that up until recently would have sent me into a fit of tears. Like when Shawn and I were hanging wedding photos and he said, "look how skinny you were!" or when Wolfgang lifted his leg and peed all over the pot of mint I had growing on my lovely new patio. Things are beginning to feel good again is what I'm saying (apart from the clueless dudes in my life, amirite?)