Back with another round-up of memories that I hope I never forget. Except the first one.
Tuesday, April 23 (17 weeks, 1 day): Everything WAS going great with prepping the nursery - got the room cleared out, made some moolah selling random stuff that was stored there, purged books and binders and notes like mad, started deconstructing the closet...good times. On Tuesday night, though, mid-wicked-rainstorm, I woke up to a weirdly consistent tapping noise. Every ten seconds, a single tap, coming from a wall in the yellow room. Possible sources of the noise circulated in my sleep-dazed head - raindrops? Heating ducts? A small animal? But it didn't sound like any of those things, and it was happening at regular intervals. I listened for about a minute before deciding to turn on the light. I flipped the switch, and the noise abruptly stopped. Sooooo, obviously we have a ghost. I laid awake in bed for almost an hour trying to figure out if we could use the purple room as a nursery instead.
|Ghosts in the nursery. Specifically, the wall on the left. Dammit.|
Wednesday, April 24 (17w2d): A milestone - a parent from work became the first brave soul who dared to ask me, without knowing the answer, if I'm expecting. I grinned and said yes, then immediately wished I had responded with a bewildered, hurt look, and a small, "No...I just had McDonald's, though." Heh. Next time, Gadget.
Thursday, April 25 (17w3d): Lifted my shirt (in the privacy of my own home) and discovered the bottom of my bellybutton. I've never seen THAT before. Instead of a wrinkly inward cone, my bellybutton is now a smooth, shallow little bowl. So. Weird. Love it.
Friday, April 26 (17w4d): Got the all-clear from my OB to paint! Woo! I really thought painting was a 100% no-no, but if I use a no-VOC version (which was the plan anyway) and make sure to have plenty of ventilation, breaks, etc., it's a go. Plus, there's nothing like admitting to your OB that you're so anal retentive that no one else is allowed to paint a room in your house. Except maybe a pro (too much money) or my brother (who's a resident and also the parent of a toddler, and perhaps does not have much time to spare).
|The room & I are primed for painting action.|
Saturday, April 27 (17w5d): Every night when I'm reading in bed, I keep a hand on my belly, waiting for baby movement. So far, all I've felt is my own pulse in my hand because I'm pressing too hard. BUT. I am 99% sure what I felt on Saturday night was a baby kick. In fact, I think I've been feeling it for a while and mistaking it for gas bubbles. It's hard to describe - like little thuds scooting around, and I felt them more internally than with my hand. Unbelievable. Miraculous. Better be a baby and not a brewing fart.
|A sneak peek of the paint color we chose, and a fun way to mark the first time I|
felt the baby move. No, not sure why I painted the "April" in horror-movie font.
Sunday, April 28 (17w6d): Got the first coat of gray up on the nursery walls! Good-bye, McDonald's yellow. I'll be back with the full run-down of the painting venture soon (I know, HOW CAN YOU POSSIBLY WAIT?), but in the meantime:
|Circa early April...|
|...and circa today. Progress!|
Plus, some bonus items I'm looking forward to this week:
- A regular OB check-up tomorrow (i.e., get to hear the baby's heartbeat!)
- Supposed to be in the 70s all week (FINALLY)
- It's May on Wednesday (my favorite month)
- Chipping away at the nursery to-do list (list includes making a list)
- Aaaand the "big" ultrasound on Friday (also important for decor decisions)
Crossing my fingers everything goes well at both of my doctor appointments this week...and that any resident ghostly beings are more Casper than not.