Five ways I have felt REALLY suddenly VERY pregnant this week
- Heartburn. It’s here for realz. Ow.
- I started sleeping with my nursing pillow between my legs again, and have that familar awkward-rolling-over routine going on again. Ahh, memories.
- I find myself touching my stomach more, without realizing it
- A big jutting-out stomach. Now 70% juttier!
- I zipped up a super-tight non-maternity stretchy hoodie thing and then got stuck inside it. I had to wrench the zipper to free myself.
Clothes explosion
I promised myself I wouldn’t dig through the (THOUSANDS OF) crates of baby clothes stored in the empty nursery.
I promised!
I had decided, all rational-like, that there was no point until we knew the sex. So I was going to wait, and then dig through them AFTER Saturday.
Well, I held out until last night (Tuesday).
I’m not even sure why I did it. I was just overcome with a compulsion to look through them. And ohhhh, how cute everything was. How tiny! For every piece I held up, I had vivid memories of my toddler wearing it when he was just a little spud.
It wasn’t a totally useless exercise, though. I started sorting out items that my friend J could use for her little guy (who is 3 1/2 months old now). She ended up coming over and taking some 6-9 stuff (he’s a tall, TALL baby, which is very unfamiliar to me and my short bebe). I’m glad she can get some use from the stuff (the MOUNDS of baby boy stuff that we have), because it will be a while yet before our little person-on-the-way can wear any of it.
Going through the clothes made me realize how practical it would be to have another boy. We have SO MUCH STUFF. Clothes, hats, jackets, snowsuits, shoes. Every size, every type — and much of it is very boyish.
Being the somewhat sexist traditional girl I am, I am OK admitting that YES, I WOULD be the kind of person who has a problem dressing a girl in a blue sports-themed sleeper. Sorry, but … YES!
If we have a boy, we’re set.
We’re really, really, really set.
If we have a girl, well … I’ll have some shopping to do.
Which, you know, total hardship! 🙂
P.S. In case you have forgotten my impatient countdown, we find out on SATURDAY!!!
Five things that suck about moving into a new house when you’re pregnant
- You have an insatiable desire to clean, organize, decorate and nest BUT lack the energy in which to do it all yourself …
- … and the ability to lift and move heavy stuff
- … and the abilty to paint because of fumes and crap
- … and the rational ability to STOP when you are tired because IT MUST BE DONE OMG
- Your husband* gets super-annoyed at your sobbing about the MESS everywhere, how much longer do we have to live in this CHAOS of UNHUNG PICTURES and UNPAINTED walls and UNORGANIZED bookcases THE HORROR!
*But really … it’s serious to us
(Please please PLEASE set up the bookcases before my head explodes)
Weekly re-cap of pregnancy #2: Week 19
Week 19Â
(Dec. 3 through Dec. 9)Â
Symptoms:Â Round ligament pain (a.k.a. stomach tightening/stretching feelings). Dizziness. Tirrrrredness. Where is that second-trimester energy I was promised? WHERE?
Body changes:Â Stomach seems to have jutted out a lot this week. I’ve really moved from that “people-are-going-to-think-I’m-just-fat-and-sticky-outy” to “definitely definitely pregnant.”
Baby movement:Â A LOT more this week. I guess all my paranoid posts about not feeling it “enough” were heard. Still doesn’t feel like kicks, but it does feel like bumping around.
Cravings:Â Plain chips. I’m obsessed with them this pregnancy. No other flavour is really doing it for me. NEED PLAIN nom nom nom. The thicker, the better. Also: corn, sour cream, and mozza sticks. Mmm.
Aversions: Pepperoni pizza. I made it myself and everything, but the meat just … no. No thanks.
High point: Getting to finally hear the baby’s heartbeat at our OB appointment! It was 145-155 and nice and clear. (It’s amazing what happens when a NURSE uses the doppler instead of an “It’s-my-second-day-tee-hee” med student uses it.) The toddler was at the appointment with us, so it was nice that he got to hear his baby brother or sister, too. Although he got very freaked out whenever the nurse took my blood pressure or did anything to me. My protective little guy.
Low point: Meeting with an accountant and getting a very depressing picture of work-at-home-ism. To give you a picture of exactly how bleak, I just kept repeating, “I don’t understand. Why would anyone work for themselves if this is how screwed they get in taxes?” and the accountant kept giving me these sympathetic expressions. FML, FML, FML. I am working this hard for basically nothing, apparently.
How does this week compare to Week 19 during pregnancy #1? Haha, well this is kind of ironic/awful: apparently we were having financial troubles at this EXACT point in the last pregnancy. Oh, that is just so gosh darn funny, I could … throw something.
Baby preparation: New category this week! And the answer is … um, none. I have restrained myself from buying ANYTHING or going through ANY of our crates of baby stuff until we know if it’s a boy or a girl. and we find out this Saturday, squeeeeeeeeee!
On teeth and scrapbooking …
My little boy has 12 teeth.
I think the last time I blogged about his teeth, he had, like, four. Everything is moving too quickly, and I’m constantly feeling like he is growing up WAY too fast — and I’m doing a crap job of documenting it. I try to soak up every minute and remember it, but I’m worried I’m not remembering it clearly enough. That I’m too busy to even blog about what he’s doing, and it will just … get lost.
The scrapbooks stop at 10 months.
He has been getting really into those books, lately. Taking them off the shelves of the family room, opening them up and pointing to pictures of himself. I love that we can read them like a storybook, and I can read little tabs that say exactly how old he was, what he was doing. Those books captured him as he was. It makes me determined to find the time to get back to scrapbooking.
I can’t believe he has 12 teeth.
He’s 18 months old — a year and a half.
He gets himself drinks of water from the cooler. When he spills, I pass him a dishtowel and he cleans it up.
He uses forks and spoons and NAPKINS! I saw him trying to wipe peanut butter off his pants the other day.
I want to remember everything about every stage in his life, but it never feels like I’m doing enough. I don’t want to forget anything. I don’t want to look back on this age and just have fuzzy, tired memories and not enough documented ones — blog or scrapbooked or otherwise.
I want to remember it all, and to be able to show him how amazing he has always been.
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