So yep, I'm still pregnant. I'll be 33 weeks on Thursday. Remy is big, and strong. I feel bad for him being all squished up in there because he seems to want to stretch out all the time. I'm feeling pretty good, all things considered. I had to buy a new foam topper for the bed because I was so uncomfortable at night, and that has helped a ton. I still have to get up pretty frequently to use the bathroom, but I'm not as creaky in the joints as I was and I fall back to sleep much quicker now.
At this point in the pregancy I'm supposed to be seeing an OB every two weeks but with the move and everything I am way over due for a doctor's appointment. I've finally got one scheduled for next week. I asked for something earlier but they said that unless this is a "high risk" pregnancy that was the best they could do for me. Grrr.
The nice thing is that the doctor and the hospital are like two minutes from the apartment. I can actually see the hospital from my balcony. I don't know how good a hospital it is, but they have a commercial I see everyday that says that this is the hospital to go to if you are having a baby and want to be pampered. As it turns out, I do want to be pampered, so I'm sold. At this late stage in the game, I don't have the time to do a whole lot of vetting.
In case you are wondering, I would not recommend moving in the third trimester to any pregnant woman. When you are pregers airports suck, flying sucks, not having access to healthy food sucks, caring for four cats in various stages of mental breakdown sucks, and leaving your support system sucks. Also, I am pretty sure I broke my foot.
But it was a few weeks of hardship so that we could have a much more secure future - and for that it was well worth it. We have insurance, a steady income, and more sunshine than we know what to do with. We've already met some wonderful people, and Mom and Steph will be coming out for a visit in May. Things are going to be okay.