Holy shit. I’m 20 weeks pregnant and halfway finished cooking this kid.
It’s a little surreal that it’s halfway over, partly because I feel like it’s taken an ETERNITY to get to this point, and partly because I remember how quickly it goes from here on in. Really, once you survive the 1st trimester, start telling people and find out what you’re having? It’s like a freakin’ TIME WARP. I swear tomorrow I will wake up 39 weeks pregnant and wondering when I’m going to get the room finished and all the clothes washed.
Ah yes… nesting. Always a delightful time for my husband, as I start redecorating the house and wanting things painted and organized and OMG I HATE THIS NOW, it MUST be changed. It’s not a happy time for him… especially as his honey-do list gets longer and longer.
I love you dear… I’m giving you a daughter, just remember that…
So I had my first official pregnancy freak out that prompted a trip to the doctor. I don’t remember having too many of these first time around, and since comparing pregnancies is futile and like comparing apples and oranges??? I’ve decided to do it anyway. While it may not look like it in the picture (at all), I’ve been feeling like I’m measuring really small this time. This seemed weird, espcially in light of the fact that I am WOLFING down sweets like it’s going out of style. But, sweets or not, I’m still in a few pairs of pre-pregnancy pants (I KNOW I KNOW, I’m an asshat. Sorry) and when I went to zip up a pair this morning and I actually could? I flipped out. I just KNEW that she had stopped growing, that I had stopped growing and that something was terribly terribly wrong. I also KNEW that I should be feeling her move more than I was and OMG DOOOOOOM.
A) I am still running and doing yoga, and therefore am working off a LOT of the sweets.
B) I am also chasing a toddler and don’t have TIME to feel this kiddo move as much as the last time… especially since I spent most of the last pregnancy sitting at my desk, bored out of my mind and participating in the Bump Forums (sshhhh don’t tell my boss). All of that movement has also made me burn off even more of the sweets.
C) I am merely nuts. Stop comparing pregnancies.
Suffice it to say, baby Girl is FINE. She is measuring right where she should be, is moving like a maniac child and I have just put on a reasonable to low amount of weight this time. I’m just carrying differently, ya know? Stop making yourself nuts, girl.
Easier said than done.
Besides being a basket case, things are truckin’ right along now. 20 weeks from now (give or take) and we get to meet this little girl! Hooray! Now if only someone would come and paint the rooms, move the furniture and start decorating the house for me.