Oh yeah, I have a blog. I’ve been too busy bellyaching about how hard it is to be 33 weeks pregnant to actually update this thing.

And then on Monday, someone told me something I didn’t know I needed to hear. After the spin class I am subbing for a friend who just started her maternity leave- really, they should call it the pregnant teacher class, not the Monday morning class- one of the women from the class lingered in the cycling studio as I wiped off the bikes and turned off the stereo. She told me how happy she was for me that I seemed to be having a healthy pregnancy, how she could never have done what I’m doing, that her body had a very hard time with pregnancy, so hard in fact, that her baby was born at 26 weeks.

26 weeks.

If you are where I was 3 years ago (eg You don’t understand why people would say “my child is 15 months old” instead of a simple “one year old” or why a woman would need to be all picky like “I’m 20 weeks along” instead of “I’m five months pregnant”), let me break it down for you. A typical pregnancy is 41 weeks. (Yes, everyone says 40, but actually the average pregnancy is 41 weeks). A baby is considered full-term at I think 38 weeks. At 26 weeks gestation, a baby wouldn’t even weigh 2 lbs. (An average baby weighs around 6-8 lbs.)

26 weeks is really, really early. That’s a lot of time in the NICU, a lot of tubes, a lot of wires, and a lot of stress and heartache that I can’t even begin to wrap my head around.

So, I’ll take my round ligament pain (if that’s what it is. Who knows, really?). I’ll take the occasional heartburn. I’ll take the intermittent insomnia. I’ll take trying to explain to a 2 year old why “uppy” isn’t a great option after about 5pm. I’ll take the stretch marks (not that I have a choice). I’ll take either being able to breathe or bending down to put on my favorite boots (and I admit, sometimes I choose the boots). I’ll even take the suffocating feeling of our basement still being in boxes after the remodel and knowing I don’t have the stamina to put it all back together in one weekend.

As for the next stranger who asks me if I’m ready to have that baby already… No, no I’m not. We’ve got at least 40 days to go and I am grateful for every last one of them.