Monday, October 14, 2013

You Are a Very Beautiful: Week 32

I'm behind on blogging. Recap time, now that I'm basically 35 weeks pregnant.

Week 32

32 weeks was supposed to be the last husbandless week before this baby arrives (this has proven to not be the case). As Tom said when he saw me at the end of week 32, it's go time.

But, instead of me being homebound while he was gone that time, I went to participate in our dear old Matt Heder's wedding. Please see #mattfoundjen and #mattfoundlove for more info on this beautiful occasion.


It was fantastic to reunite with all of my besties from LA and basically party the weekend away.


Buddies4Eva



























In a way I felt like it was my last single weekend. Even though I'm married, this kid thing makes me feel officially not single. Maybe it's because I'm coexisting with another human being 24 hours a day.
Anyway, it all went without a hitch, except the part where Matt got hitched. Fun for everyone.

Tiffani and I got to reunite in our sisterhood with Mari B, whom we are still maintaining WILL move to SLC soon so we may resume our secret combination...erm, club, club.


We also had a hotel room crashing party that night with my Cali pal-eys, while I laid in my bed and went through my first Braxton Hicks contractions. Nothing more party rockin' than that am I right ya'll? There was The Hobbit, there was SNL, and there were stomach tightenings. Fun facts: Mari B and I shared a cuddle while eating an entire bucket of ice together on my hotel bed. It was Mari B's first time in life eating ice just for fun. For me, it was just for...crazy. I'm insane with this ice pica/anemia thing.

Tiffani and I had to part ways with our friends (Mari B included) and spent an afternoon in Monterey for my first (sort of) time. It was gorgeous, but I was getting a little more insane about being in Steinbeck country. Salinas, Castroville, etc.





Also, Gilroy, the garlic capitol of the world.


We also did the 17 Mile Drive. We didn't see Doris Day, unfortunately.  She's the abominable  snow man of pebble beach I'm told.







We woke early Monday morning of last week, headed back to Utah, and I went non-stop through some pretty wicked stomach tenderness (doctor thinks it's muscles stretching) but I was able to throw in some meetings and appointments like a boss (or an employee).



When I got on the plane bound for Houston that night, I thought I'd be fine. It was the single worst flight of my existence. 2 hours and 45 minutes on the runway without A/C, a mail order bride next to me who was half heartedly clearing her throat every 5 seconds (she might have also had bird flu), three lap sitting babies to my direct right, and one very deep voiced, opinionated southern woman. My midsection was contracting and my phone was dead, so no one in my life could actually hear from me to know where I was or when I was getting in...which ended up being 2:30am central time. So 6 hours on a plane, that was supposed to be 2 and a half hours, and I was sweating so much my bangs were wet, making me roughly resemble a drowned cat...An 8 months pregnant drowned cat. But I felt bad for my poor mom. When I was finally in the Houston airport (which was empty) I struggled to find these archaic things called pay phones and I'm pretty sure I paid 7 dollars for a 2 minute phone call to find my mom. When she answered, her phone hung up on me and the tears of a lost child began to pour. Airport personnel just stared at me like I was an episode of Jerry Springer. No room at the inn?

Luckily my mom was able to get a hold of me and when I got in the car I pathetically felt like I had just lived through 8 months pregnant Vietnam.

I'd like to acknowledge that what I went through was probably a luxury experience for about 1 billion pregnant women throughout the world, just not this one. Not this time.

The good news, now that my sob story is done, I did make it home safe and sound, Tom met with me the next day and we spent most of the time after enjoying a week of family time and basically relaxing in our good ol' home state. Two things that have been much needed for the two (and a half) of us. But that's for week 33.

Cravings: More ice and my dads drink mixes. Don't ask me what he does to make them so good, they just are. No alcohol, just fairy dust and fruit punch. And I think Welches grape juice?

Aversions: Heartburn. I can honestly say I'd never experienced heartburn until week 32. It was awful and I'm so sorry to everyone who has always experienced it. Mine was brought on by a mixture of popcorn, lemonade, and raisinets, and most likely our viewing of Captain Phillips. That was intense, but we were building up to see Gravity, so it was a test. Result? Heartburn.

Well, that about sums up week 32. Stay tuned 33, 34... And so on.


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