Weird Science - 26 Weeks
Okay, so at one point or another probably every mother-to-be believes she is carrying a little baby octopus rather than a human fetus. This week I started to feel movements beyond what I think any normal baby could possibly do - floating in amniotic fluid or not. Up by my ribcage there was, what had to be, some kind of flip turn, followed by three hard punches down on my left side. Basically what the books say is "don't worry, everything's normal", not that I'm too worried, but if it felt like somone was trying to jack-hammer their way out of your womb, you'd have some cause for concern.
In other news, we had a doctor's appointment this week. Nothing too unusual, the ultrasound looked fine (which I figured, since I hadn't heard otherwise yet), except when my doctor measured the height of the fundus, she said it was measuring at about twenty eight weeks. What?! Wait, wait, wait, lets back up a bit, 28 weeks? Odly enough my first thought wasn't 'Oh no, that puts my due date somewhere in the middle of finals week', it was actually 'You mean I could be done with this sooner that I thought? Score!'. Unfortunately, or fortunately I suppose, I raised my concerns and my doctor said that measuring can be off about two weeks, and since the ultrasound, which is far more accurate, put the due date almost exactly where it's been, there's no reason to worry - the baby might just be on the larger side - or not - it's really just not that accurate. Yep, glad we're on the cutting edge of modern medicine here in Pullman.
The good news is that I'm really looking pregnant finally - what, it's only the thrid trimester? Maternity clothes are just about all I can wear now, that is if I want to be comfortable. And I'm now sleeping with a pillow wedged under my immense girth. I woke up a few mornings ago with pillows on each side of me, and poor Ian shoved over in the corner (not that he usually gets that much room, but anyway).
Ah, and guys while you're in edge of the bed exile - here are some words of advice I've thought of recently:
1. If your wife / singificant other is expecting, compliment her, even if she looks like crap. I got a few spring maternity outfits when I was in Portland, and Ian's been really sweet about telling me how nice I look and how cute my clothes are, which has made me want to look even nicer.
2. Hands on the belly. Ian's always got his hands on my stomach, and then worries that it bothers me. The only thing that bothers me is that I'm going to miss all the attention after the baby is born.
3. Let her sleep. This morning I woke up around 8, ate breakfast, laid back down to read a magazine, and promptly fell back asleep - and slept until noon. One word: Bliss.
4. Don't act like like things going on - or about to happen - with her body are straight out of Weird Science. Suprisingly, it's not all that helpful or encouraging - we're still working on this one.
I'll probably add more as I think of them. Until then, I'll continue to be pummeled from the inside by Jr - I hope he gets it out of his system and is a calm, easy-going baby - somehow I don't think I'll be that lucky.
In other news, we had a doctor's appointment this week. Nothing too unusual, the ultrasound looked fine (which I figured, since I hadn't heard otherwise yet), except when my doctor measured the height of the fundus, she said it was measuring at about twenty eight weeks. What?! Wait, wait, wait, lets back up a bit, 28 weeks? Odly enough my first thought wasn't 'Oh no, that puts my due date somewhere in the middle of finals week', it was actually 'You mean I could be done with this sooner that I thought? Score!'. Unfortunately, or fortunately I suppose, I raised my concerns and my doctor said that measuring can be off about two weeks, and since the ultrasound, which is far more accurate, put the due date almost exactly where it's been, there's no reason to worry - the baby might just be on the larger side - or not - it's really just not that accurate. Yep, glad we're on the cutting edge of modern medicine here in Pullman.
The good news is that I'm really looking pregnant finally - what, it's only the thrid trimester? Maternity clothes are just about all I can wear now, that is if I want to be comfortable. And I'm now sleeping with a pillow wedged under my immense girth. I woke up a few mornings ago with pillows on each side of me, and poor Ian shoved over in the corner (not that he usually gets that much room, but anyway).
Ah, and guys while you're in edge of the bed exile - here are some words of advice I've thought of recently:
1. If your wife / singificant other is expecting, compliment her, even if she looks like crap. I got a few spring maternity outfits when I was in Portland, and Ian's been really sweet about telling me how nice I look and how cute my clothes are, which has made me want to look even nicer.
2. Hands on the belly. Ian's always got his hands on my stomach, and then worries that it bothers me. The only thing that bothers me is that I'm going to miss all the attention after the baby is born.
3. Let her sleep. This morning I woke up around 8, ate breakfast, laid back down to read a magazine, and promptly fell back asleep - and slept until noon. One word: Bliss.
4. Don't act like like things going on - or about to happen - with her body are straight out of Weird Science. Suprisingly, it's not all that helpful or encouraging - we're still working on this one.
I'll probably add more as I think of them. Until then, I'll continue to be pummeled from the inside by Jr - I hope he gets it out of his system and is a calm, easy-going baby - somehow I don't think I'll be that lucky.
posted by Kate at 5:20 PM
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