I'm still waddling and wearing the one pair of shoes that still fit my swollen feet. Fortunately, I had oodles of energy this weekend, so I kept up with PapaBear while running errands over the weekend and making a spiffy impromptu dinner last night. Even made banana bread on Friday - you'll have to trust me on this as I just polished off the last crumb.
While I nest, the babe appears to be interested in escape. Based on all the wriggling I feel in my lower elevations, I suspect that she's crafting her exit strategy.
At times, it feels like my daughter is scratching her way out, like she has a dull spoon in hand with which she is slowly but surely working to break free. Remember that old movie in which prisoners of war dig a tunnel and carry out sand in their pockets? If POW can stand for Prisoner of Womb, then I might have a pending prison break on my hands.
My pregnancy library sheds very little light on this scratching sensation. The books have loads of information about the first 2 trimesters, but very little to say about the final days. Perhaps authors realize that pregnant women stop reading by this point. We are either asleep, stressing about labour, or jumping ahead to books on breastfeeding.
Has anyone out there felt as I do (ideally when you were pregnant)?
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1 comment:
Afraid I can't shed any light on this sensation -- but then my daughter insisted on staying head-up most of the way!
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