A couple of weeks ago, a friend suggested that I do Bumpday updates on Wednesday (Bumpday/Humpday – she is a blog post naming genius!). I don’t know if anyone cares at all, but I can try it out.
This would be much more interesting if I had a picture of my bump, but I forgot to have the architect take one last night.
Anyways – a brief update:
I am 18 weeks & 2 days along. I have gained so much weight, but I don’t know where (LIES! It is all in my boobs! And a bit in the uterus part of my body, too) that I’m starting to develop a complex. I never thought I’d be one of those people who worried about gaining weight during pregnancy. During the first 15 weeks, I didn’t gain a single pound, and was a bit concerned (but mostly just internally smug), but then, all of sudden, in 3 weeks I put on ten (10! holy balls!) lbs. Since Alvie Bean only weighs about 1/2 pound at this point, I can’t really blame him too much.
ANYWAYS – I find myself obsessing (obsessing) about the weight. Apparently being a former fat girl has made me super self conscious (the other reason there are no bump pictures – I feel that it’s hard to tell the difference between the bump and the pre-existing condition known as “not washboard abs”). I see a bunch of pregnancy photos of other people who are so thin, and I wish I looked like them.
BUT – enough of my neuroses. I am not so neurotic that I will stop eating or anything. I will just watch WHAT I’m eating even more carefully.
I have been very, very lucky. I had no difficulties conceiving, had a fairly easy first trimester (there was 5 weeks of near-constant nausea, but I only barfed twice), and although I’ve been a LOT more tired than I ever thought possible (the first person who says “just wait until after it’s born, then you’ll know from tired” gets kicked in the shins-twice), it’s been kind of wonderful.
I am due April 2, and am hoping for an on-time baby. As I mentioned Monday, next Tuesday we find out the sex of the baby (sex is the actual biological characteristic, gender is a social construct) – if Alvie is cooperative.
The cats have been reacting…interestingly –
Jasmin (the oldest, and the one that the architect had before he had me) has finally decided that I am worthy of being acknowledged, even when I am not the only food giver at home. She will let me pet her, and if no one is looking, will sit on my lap.
Darwin (my baby, my poor neurotic emo baby) wanted nothing to do with me for about a month. He would sniff me and then turn his back, flick his tail up, and walk away. Now he is back to cautious love – and the other night he & Alvie played “let’s poke each other” through my abdomen. That was amusing and weird.
Lola (our poor sweet youngest, the vet said last week, “it’s a good thing she’s pretty, because there’s not a lot going on upstairs, is there?”) has no idea that anything is different, I don’t think. Although this morning, when I woke up, she was curled up around my stomach, under the covers, like a furry belly warmer. I think that might have more to do with my awesome special pillow, though. The cats LOVE that thing.
ANYWAYS – that’s where I’m at. Happy, a little neurotic about my weight, and wondering what the cats will do when we bring home the usurper.
November 2, 2011: I am grateful for the architect, who is simply wonderful. He picks up the household slack when I’m busy with schoolwork, brings me chicken fingers on his way home from work, and is simply the most wonderful husband I could ask for…
November 1, 2011: I am grateful for my (so far, knock on wood) easy and wonderful pregnancy