Week Twenty Seven.

You know that thing where you see a pattern of not ideal after-meal BG readings, and so you finally think to change up some basal rates, and commend yourself: "Yes! This will fix it! I am a genius!" and then you're still over 200 the next morning?

I am currently living that thing.

Pregnancy is shifting from "oh, this isn't so bad" to "oh, this is the part where it's going to get really uncomfortable, huh". I was able to use my stomach as a coaster last night, setting my empty glass on it while I fired off some emails with my phone while sitting on the couch. Every afternoon around 2:30 is when a nap sounds like the most glorious thing I've ever heard of. My feet hurt. Trying to reach those feet hurts my feelings. Every time I stand up, I feel like the first stop needs to be a bathroom. I have weird blotches on my legs that were never there before, and it's totally sexy you guys.

Have I mentioned 27 weeks? Twenty seven!

I've been putting my sewing machine to good (I hope) use the past couple of weeks:

Blame Pinterest: skirt sewn to onesie; leggings made from adult knee-high socks; Boppy cover with invisible zipper.

The production of small hand-sewn baby things helps to quell my terror at not yet having a car seat, stroller, crib, or any of a number of things I've deemed actually important. But we have time and free weekends coming up so I will allow myself to believe that my terror should be short-lived, in this regard anyway. It will all get done, and really, most of what I initially thought of as "must do" is actually "could do after she's here, with some help". It'll be fine.

Sleeping is something I'm no longer skillful at, which is a first for me. Despite usage of a body pillow, I'm still tossing and turning all night. Add in the times I need to get up and pee and it's almost as if I shouldn't bother trying.

But it's things like this that keep my focus on what's important: according to one of my pregnancy tracking apps (I might have four), Baby Girl is now around 2 lbs. and approximately the size of a head of cauliflower. Or a rutabaga, if you're someone who actually knows what one of those looks like.

Knowing we're getting closer and closer to meeting our little girl is one great prize to keep an eye on.