Tuesday, January 24, 2017

halfway there.

Somehow, I'm already halfway through this pregnancy. I've actually had two different people remark that my pregnancy is going so fast this time - for them. Ha! But really, it's going quickly for me, too. On the one hand, yay! Being preggo isn't quite as sparkly and magical this time around, so I'm cool with it going quickly. On the other hand...craaaaap. I know what's waiting for me on the other side of this belly. Sleep deprivation. Throbbing nipples (not just a punk band anymore!). Hormonal roller coasters. Sleep deprivation. Trying to soothe a sensitive new big sister. Brain fog. Sleep deprivation.

Also, you know, hopefully a sweet little baby to help smooth out all the rough spots. Because oy, those first two weeks...well, six weeks...well, six months - those can be rough. 

Buuuut let's back it up to now and let Future Cathy deal with the newborn phase when it's here. For now, I'm halfway there, even though early June seems much farther away than 20 more weeks. In general, I'm feeling good. No more sickness at all, thank god. The heart palpitations that were getting increasingly annoying have waned, and the cardiologist said they were nothing to worry about. Not much pelvic girdle pain yet, and not really any pain in general. The only time I get super uncomfortable is when I drink a lot all at once. It's especially bad if I'm active after drinking a lot - then I get fairly intense contractions. GOOD. TIMES.

The hardest part right now is dealing with how big I feel. Rationally, I know I'm not huge, but my belly feels huge all the time - as if I can feel it actively stretching. Which, duh, it IS. But I don't remember being aware of the feeling so acutely when I was pregnant with Rowan. The constant stretching sensation makes me super self-conscious, like everyone must be staring and watching my belly expand in real time. I feel like my belly is just hanging off of me, rather than being attached to me - and it's not such a comfy feeling, you know? My bellybutton is already popping out (more like flopping out), thanks to being all stretched out from the first time around. I distinctly remember feeling cute at this point with Rowan; right now, I do not feel cute. I feel like I did at the very end - like I am 10% me and 90% BELLY.

Like I said, rationally, I know I'm not enormous. I'm pretty sure I weigh more at this point than I did 20 weeks in with Rowan, but I don't remember the numbers, and it can't be that much more. And, real talk, it's often around this point of every winter, pregnant or not, that I start feeling like a stranger in my own body, following a few months of being shut inside and avoiding movement and snuggling with chocolate chocolate alllll the chocolate. I also know that if I really cared, I'd get up and starting moving more often. Instead? Netflix. 

It also helps to look at photo comparisons.

(last week)


(at 20 weeks with Rowan)

So, whatever. It's in my head. I realize that. Either way, getting off my ass once in a while probably wouldn't be a bad thing. OH. And there's the matter of my one pregnancy craving: McDonald's french fries. I mean, look. I eat well in general. Whole foods, clean foods. This is my breakfast pretty much every day:

That would be a hardboiled egg and avocado, mashed with fresh lemon juice and dijon mustard, on rye bread, alongside an orange julius green smoothie - full-fat vanilla yogurt, half an orange, and a bunch of spinach. DELICIOUS. Lunch is usually a salad, dinner is usually veggies and quinoa in some combination. I do have my sugar vice, but french fries? The last time I had french fries from McDonald's before this pregnancy was...I literally can't remember. It's not that I never eat fast food; it's just that McDonald's has no options for me as a vegetarian, unless I want a meal of french fries and a milkshake (not gonna lie, I've definitely done that). These days, though, I have large fries like once or twice a week. 

For your viewing pleasure: a series of text messages I sent to J.J. a couple weeks ago, after Rowan was in bed one night. He was in the other room when my craving hit.

Thank you, J.J., for fulfilling my french fry needs, that night and so many other nights. (That sounds way dirtier than I meant it to. I really just mean that he went to McDonald's and got me lots of french fries.)

Finally (apparently less important than my body image issues and my french fry addiction, based on the fact that I'm mentioning it last), we had our big anatomy scan last week. We already knew the sex, of course, but we were excited to see what Baby Boy's looking like these days, and hopefully to get some reassurance that everything looks typical. Which it does! No weird bilobed placenta this time, measuring right on schedule, and nothing of concern to docs. 

It looks like he has Rowie's chin (aka my chin)! In fact, he looks a lot like Rowan's ultrasound pics around this point in general. He was super cooperative for pictures - the tech called him a "model baby" - so I'm just going to project that personality trait onto him and assume that he is and will always be cooperative. Let me have my dreams, okay? My dreams...and my fries.

1 comment:

  1. 😂😂😂😂 that text exchange. Halfway there - so exciting!



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