I like it when people put a hand on my tummy and can feel the baby kicking now. And it's not because I like to be touched, in fact that part is a little bit annoying. But rather I love the reactions that everyone seems to have when they feel a giant kick with a tiny foot, or a hand pressed firmly against theirs.
I've become very used to feeling my baby move around inside me, and sometimes I have to cry out and pull up my tshirt and stare at my stomach because I'm amazed at how active this little one is.
But when everyone else feels the movements, their eyes will become as wide as saucers and the usual comments like: "Wow!" "Holy Cow!" "Oh my god!" will emerge from their lips very loudly as though they never expected to really feel anything at all and oh my gosh, there actually is a baby inside of there.
It's gotten to the point that when someone puts their hand on my stomach, I instantly feel the urge to laugh. And not just a little giggle, but a downright full-out belly laugh that comes from the tips of my toes to the end of my nose; all in anticipation of seeing how they will react when they feel something.
The other night, Chad was feeling the baby move and decided to put his head on my tummy, hoping that the baby would kick him. In the head. The thought of it was so amusing to me, so stinkin' hilarious that I broke out laughing. But Chad thought that my belly jiggling from the laughter was actually the baby kicking him, which made him jump about a foot off the couch in shock and surprise, which only made me laugh harder.
With Chad, it seems like no matter how many times he feels his child kick, every time is the first time. He calls the baby his "little orange" because at times it looks like there is an actual orange in my stomach - rolling around attempting to make juice. I love it when he gets excited like that, because it reminds me again and again just how exciting it really is to feel these special moments every time they happen - and how much I should appreciate them now, while I still can.
You know, before my little orange becomes a watermelon.
2008-03-04 (27 weeks)
Updates
Chad and I went to another prenatal visit today, and it went much better than I expected. I was a bit nervous because we noticed that I had started to retain some water, which (as the books warn) can lead to edemea which leads to preclampsia (toximia) which is dangerous. But Dr.Goldie assured me that I'm doing better than "great" and that everything is right on track.
My uterus measured 27 centimeters, which means baby is growing on schedule. Heartrate was 140bpm, my blood pressure was great, and I gained 4lbs last month. Everything was right on track, and really comforting to hear.
Baby is also moving a LOT. You can now see my stomach morphing from side to side with the all the shifting and kicking happening inside, which is pretty awesome.
Other than that, I'm trying to drink lots of water and continuing to eat healthy and trying to get my walks in with the dogs every day. I also found out that there are two weddings Chad and I are invited to, both in May, and the one I was really looking forward to is on May 31st. I'm a bit skeptical that I'll be able to make it, (due date is beginning of June) or even feel like going, but we'll see.
The mental image of Chad and I attempting to slow dance with my big-ready-to-pop belly is enough for me to want to go, just to see people's reactions.
Especially when I really break it out on the dance floor and do the Macerana.
2008-03-04 (27 weeks)
Dear Baby (March)
I'm not going to lie. A few days ago, I had a nervous breakdown about the fact that I'm pregnant. I literally sat on the phone and cried to your Nana, completley distraught and very convinced that I had no idea what I was going to do when you arrived. I had no clue what I was supposed to do with you. And the entire day I spent moping around the house and feeling sorry for myself because in a few months my life is going to change drastically and there was nothing I could do to make time slow down or stop altogether.
I sat on the couch and just stared out our living room window. It was a beautiful day, and I didn't feel like I could enjoy it. I was suddenly so scared, mostly because I became very overwhelmed with the thought that you're growing very quickly inside of me and soon you will be growing very quickly outside of me. You will be exposed to this unpredictable world, and I must do my best to keep you away from the hurt and the pain that you will inevitably experience, but I know that I cannot shelter you forever.
I will make mistakes, I know I will. So I guess I should just apologize ahead of time for all the moments to come where you'll look at me and feel like I've let you down in one way or another. I want to apologize because I really have no idea how to do this. I'm just taking one day at a time, and I hope that when you're older you'll be able to look back on your childhood and above all know how much you were loved; even if it was by someone who couldn't wait to touch your little hands and yet was scared to death of doing so.
Even with all that said, there is one thing I can promise you. No matter what happens in your future, no matter how many times I embarrass you or make you want to move out of the house, I promise that you will always be able to count on me, Baby.
I'll show you how to find the big dipper in the sky, I'll teach you how to put a halter on a horse, I'll help you tie your shoes.
And I will always catch you when you fall.
Love,
Mommy
2008-02-29 (26 weeks)
Please Press Pause...Just For Now
I made it. Somehow, I managed to get myself through the first week of house-training our new puppy without a single accident. (Pat self on back). Of course I can't take all the credit, but considering I'm the sole person on night duty - I feel like I have bragging rights. At least for a couple of sentences.
But I'm not going to lie. I feel as though my body has been viciously squished through a garborator, and I can't seem to restore any energy I previously had. It's not just the new adjustment with our puppy, but also because there was a bunch of work issues - last minute invoicing that needed to be done - on top of my daily routine. It's been a busy week, and I'm so glad that I can finally say it's over.
Well, kind of.
See, with the ending of this week - means that tomorrow we will begin the month of March. I seriously have no idea where the time has gone, but suddenly I'm down to about twelve weeks left in my pregnancy. TWELVE. The sound of that number now suddenly feels foriegn, and leaves a funny taste in my mouth. To put it bluntly, I am not ready. I'm not ready for the birth, the breastfeeding, the changing, the crying, the cleaning, the drooling, or the pooping. I'm not ready to be a Mother, and yet suddenly nature has given me twelve weeks to get over it and figure it out, because I don't have a choice.
Yesterday, Chad said to me that he still remembers when the baby was just the size of a strawberry. I smiled and told him that I still remember when the baby was just two pink lines on a stick. Everyone has been telling me not to worry, that near the end I will want this baby to be born. I will be ready. But the closer it gets, the more frantic I become, and I feel like if I just breathe a little bit slower and move a little bit less I can somehow slow the world down.
So if you're out and about today, and suddenly everything around you seems quieter and less rushed, it's probably just me - sitting in the living room with my hands on my belly and my eyes shut tight, trying very hard to slow down the rotation of the earth.
