Come Out Please!

Enough is enough...Baby, I love you so and am so eager to hold you in my arms, so...PLEASE GET OUT OF ME NOW! GET OUT! GET OUT! GET OUT!

I truly HATE this part of the pregnancy stage. The waiting, the anticipation, the unknown...Jeez, why can't babies just make appointments when they've decided that they've had enough of womb time? Wouldn't life be so much more simpler? No need to lug the hospital bag everywhere you go. No need to worry whether your water bag will burst everytime you take a leak. No need to worry if what you're feeling is either contractions or just the need to do number two. No need to try and figure out everytime you decide to clean the house stems out of responsibility or the so called nesting instinct. And in addition to that, knowing for sure how much longer you have to endure your every 45 minutes toilet rendezvous.

And the heat! The slightest move makes me sweat like a horse. Hubby and my dear girl are all going tippy toes around me. They're probably afraid that their sudden move will just trigger me into my wrath mode. Heck, if you still manage to sweat like a horse clad in only your birthday suit, you tell me if that won't spark you into severe grumpiness? My mood these days is like the weather. Literally. If it's cool, than I'm cool. If it's scalding out there, just run for your life.

And another thing, I just can't stand being so huge any longer. Anyone who says that there is nothing more beautiful than a pregnant woman have really no sense of taste. Either that, or needs eye surgery desperately. Trust me, there is nothing beautiful about a woman who looks like a crossbreed between a seacow and a hippo.

Baby, please...please..please come out. Mommy's really had enough of pregnancy. I swear, judging by all the kicking and punching that I'm experiencing from the baby right now...he is truly throwing himself one long wild party in there. Hmm, the longer he parties, the more I'm considering of grounding him once he comes out. Whenever that is...*sigh*