Monday I went in for another ultrasound — does everyone get these many these days? I honestly don’t know. I feel like I’m in for one like clockwork every few weeks. It’s fun, but messy and by the time I get home I just want to lie down.
The Peanut is now 4lbs, 3oz — gaining at a rate of about 1 lb every two weeks. Which, yeah, means if I go to term, hello 8 lb baby. Pro: sleeps through the night sooner, lower risk of SIDS; Con: OMFG PAIN. He is still incredibly active, meaning some days my stomach is excruciatingly sore and I hold ice packs to my ribs—during the ultrasound he yawned, hiccuped and then proceeded to beat me with his tiny fists and feet. “Ooo,” said the tech, “he’s SO active.”
Uh yeah. Welcome to my world. It’s hot (over 90 degrees again today, just kill me already), I’m repeatedly getting beat up and I’m having to get up twice a night to pee. Tomorrow marks 31 weeks. Let’s go team baby!
Very cute profile — I think he has my nose.
Front face shot — much less like Gollum.
And per my sister who has been requesting this picture for months, my giant ever-expanding belly.
Every since we had the nasty rains in March, our basement has been disaster zone numero uno. We had it dried out rather quickly (10 days worth of fans), but picking a company to due prevention AND picking a company to finish it again was a pain in the ass. Fortunately, the drains and new pumps are in and now it’s just a matter of having it turned back into the space it was. That starts in a week and a half and today we spent part of the morning visiting tile stores and trying to envision 1000 sq ft of finished space.
Initially I planned to buy the tile online, which seemed like a fabulous idea… until they wanted to charge $700 for delivery. Oy. So now we’re buying it local, which will cost a touch more per sq ft, but less than if we had to pay an extra $700 for shipping.
The worst part is I’m due in less than two months and it’s not done yet. They tell us it’ll take two weeks, and they can start in the first week of August (awesome, I can’t wait to have people walking around when it’s this freaking hot and all I want to do is where boxers and a tank top), but we can’t move the basement stuff downstairs until it’s over… and so the nursery is full of boxes. And cats. Argh.
I’m itching to finish the nursery and wash and put away all the cute stuff we have—perhaps I’m nesting, but I think it’s just because I like to plan. Not having stuff done makes me slightly anxious, especially because babies do not have the best record for timing.
We’re in day four of the second heat wave of the past month and I want to die. Being pregnant in the summer is quite possibly the worst time—especially if you don’t have central a/c and you work with a laptop (hello heat wave on the legs).
Thursday marks 30 weeks of being pregnant, and the past couple of been my least favorite. I passed the first glucose test, but just barely, so they made me take it again. Some BS about my liver and blah blah and the next thing you know I’m sitting in a hospital for 3.5 hours, getting my blood drawn every hour. This, after fasting since the night before and swigging 100 ML of the nastiest orange drink known to man. Friday was a rough day.
Our last ultrasound was about a week and a half ago (I know, I know, I’m behind), and I’ve decided my baby looks like Gollum:
The tech helpfully took a picture of his foot, too, seeing as how it’s permanently affixed to the underside of my ribs:
They tell me the kicking is a good sign that he might come early, and honestly, it is my one desire. Four weeks early kid, you can do it!
Yet another fun aspect of pregnancy? Pregnancy brain. (And yes, that is the technical term for it.) Basically the brain swells a bit when you are pregnant and certain aspects, namely memory, become hampered. Fortunately it goes away once the baby is born, but for now, I’m stuck with a worse-than-usual short-term memory (ie, I literally have to right everything down from a 10 minute meeting or I forget everything from the first 5 minutes) and an odd habit of just forgetting words in the middle of sentences.
The Chop thinks this is awesome. Particularly today when I said, “yippity do da doo bird,” or something along those lines. Basically I make no sense. It’s highly irritating to me, but highly entertaining to those I work and live with—yet another aspect of pregnancy that they don’t tell you occurs.
When we were in Provincetown I went and got a pedicure at a local salon, where two early-20-year-olds were working. They ooh’d and aah’d about my stomach, felt the baby kick and we discussed all the stuff that nobody mentions about pregnancy…
Your feet hurt, your back hurts, your stomach hurts, you can’t get up by yourself, putting on pants is painful, you don’t sleep well (or at all), it’s freaking hot, you get random heartburn FOR NO REASON (even if you just drink water), your feet swell if you’re on them too much, you can’t shave your legs comfortably, you run into things constantly and, oh yeah, sex becomes a logistical nightmare.
Happy Fourth of July!
