First, before I update you on all things pregnancy related, I have a little matter to conduct with those of you who know me in real life.
First, raise your right hand. Place the left one on the nearest copy of People magazine. Now, repeat after me:
The pregnant body is a beautiful thing. I understand and accept the right of every woman to shun the maternity muumuus of the past and wear clothing that makes her look pregnant, as opposed to whale-ish.
This being said…
Should Katie ever tell me that she would like to perform in front of millions of people looking like this…
…I will promptly whack her upside the head with a Grammy (or any reasonable facsimile thereof).
Thus it is spoken, thus it is. Thank you for your cooperation.
Seriously, folks, those pictures are actually flattering. During her performance at the Grammys, she absolutely looked like she was wearing some sort of diaper. Can we say “homemade craft project”? Baaaaaad. Very Bad.
Yesterday was my second appointment with one of my midwives. She started by asking me how I’m feeling.
I’m feeling like I’m having some of my late-pregnancy issues. Already. I’m aching in uncomfortable places if I stand up too long (a problem since I spend the vast majority of my day standing up and chasing children). And the lovely varicose vein that showed up in my leg last time? Back already. And, this time, it hurts if I keep my leg bent for too long.
Now, mind you, these are just small annoyances. I’m happy to deal with them if it means I get another child. I’m just surprised at how early they are showing up this time around. Of course, who knows? Maybe after I’m done carrying around a sick baby all day, my body will stop whining again.
After chatting about veins and pains, it was time to listen to the heartbeat. As I tend to be a bit neurotic about how the baby is doing until I can feel it moving around, I always look forward to this part. That little thump-thumping is very reassuring for me.
She squirted on the gel. She put the doppler on my belly. She moved it around and around to the sound of nothing but static.
Finally, shortly before I had a panic attack, she excused herself to get a different doppler, saying that she suspected that this one was broken. Um, thanks for giving me some hope. Of course, she could have played a really fun game of “give the neurotic pregnant lady a heart attack” and brought back another defective one. Luckily, the one she brought back was working just fine and she was able to find the heartbeat quickly. It was right around 140—the middle of normal, preventing her from making any gender guesses based on it being faster or slower.
And speaking of gender…
No, I didn’t find out this time. Obviously—I’m only 15 1/2 weeks. BUT, we did schedule the ultrasound! Somehow, it is exciting just having it on the books. So, March 12th I get to find out whether this will be boy number five or not. Until then, I’m vowing to stay away from baby name books. It is so easy for me to find girl names that I like, and so hard to find boy names that excite me. I always end up going into the ultrasound with a girl’s name picked out and no clue on a boy’s name that we can both live with. And that ends up being a little depressing. So, this time, no looking at girls’ names unless I find out that there is a need for it.
And now, for the picture. I have never taken regular belly pictures throughout a pregnancy in the past. I kept putting it off—first because I wasn’t showing and then (the past few days) because I’m always pretty trashed by the time Sean’s home and can take a picture of me. So you are forewarned—this certainly does not qualify as the best picture ever taken of me. Just remember—it is the end of the day and I have been dealing with two sick kids all day long.
OK, the angle I’m standing at makes me look a little bigger than I actually am. But there is no question, I am showing. It was only a week or so ago that I wasn’t. How quickly things change.