According to the What to Expect When You're Expecting app, I have 22 weeks and four days left until Mr. or Ms. Baby arrives. The baby's about the size of a turnip and is possibly doing a somersault as I write. Even though I can't feel the baby moving yet, it's crazy to know that it is moving.
Here's something to shock you: lately, I've talked a lot with people about pregnancy and raising kids. This isn't another blog about how rude people are or how we should treat pregnant women. Really, I haven't heard anyone be rude or suggest stupid things. It's been a pretty easy ride and, for that, I'm grateful. Sure, there were the three weeks of constant sadness and full-on grumpies, the month of not pooping without the aid of an entire army of prunes and Fiber One bars, and the high school-level acne. What else? No odd cravings, no sickness, little dizziness...I can't complain.
In general, I feel pregnant. My belly has a sweet bump and a box of clothes is stored in my closet, awaiting the day when I can hopefully wear them again without looking like a potato stuffed into a finger puppet. Yeah, I guess the weight worries me if I'm perfectly honest. I think about it too much. After losing a bunch of weight after college and working hard to keep it off, gaining a pound a week definitely stretches one's comfort level.
Besides, when else can I justify cherry pie in the morning? Or buying a huge Costco box of Goldfish and Bagel Bites? Hey, the Bagel Bites have calcium and baby needs calcium. Really, I'm still eating healthy, but it's super fun to give into random things I usually don't.
Otherwise, I really don't feel any different yet. I believe the doctors that there's a baby inside me. That would be a mean and very impressive trick. The baby just doesn't seem real. We have a room set aside as the baby room and it's painted green. That's about it so far. Right now, the room is still housing an assortment of random stuff until we get this house arranged. I don't think baby will like being changed on a pile of Stephen King books, so I should get around to that whole nesting thing.
Anyways, I've gotten a lot of questions about how I'm doing and I appreciate everyone who cares so much. Just thought I'd write a little update, saying I'm doing well even and enjoying the imminent need for a larger bra. Now that the sad grumpies of the first trimester are gone, I feel like myself. We'll find out if the baby is a mister or a miss in three weeks. Maybe then the baby will seem like an actual person that will one day hate naps.
