Tummywatch Tuesday: 18 Weeks
So the picture at right pretty much sums up how I’ve been feeling lately. I’m a little bigger. A little stressed out. A lot crabby. I’d like to disappear for a day or two, wallow in my crabbiness, then reappear happier and semi-social again. The only thing relating to being pregnant may well be that first part about the bigness, but it’s just the way it is right now, so there you have it.
Before I had kids, I could do that—the disappearing thing. Turn off the phone, order in, watch crappy TV. I kind of miss not having to limit my wallowing to the late-evening hours when Roy’s asleep. But it’s also nice to have to snap out of my head for awhile and have interactive fun with my boy. Turns out swinging and a few rounds of This Little Piggy can do wonders for one’s mood. Sometimes I truly do forget how grumpy I am supposed to be.
Anyway, it’s actually been a really nice week, despite my mood. We had a couple of park playdates, went to no fewer than THREE awesome birthday gatherings and even made it down to the farmer’s market, which Roy absolutely loves, due to the horses and samples and eye-level action. Roy’s taken to letting us know when he’s had a good time. “Fun,” he’ll say, as we strap him into the stroller or car seat. Now if that can’t cheer a girl up, I don’t know what could.
I had my monthly doctor’s appointment. I was especially looking forward to it because I’m at that odd point where my all-day sickness is disappearing, yet I’m still not feeling any baby movement, so I can actually forget/doubt I’m pregnant. Which starts to make you feel as if maybe you’re not. So I really wanted to hear that heartbeat again; make sure the little baby was still doing her thing in there. Of course, she is. Strong heartbeat. Correctly-sized uterus. (She’s roughly the size of a sweet potato, according to Parents.com’s babytracker.) We did the AFP blood test screening, too, which came back normal. All seems to be going well.
Oh, and speaking of doctors and good times, Roy had his stitches taken out yesterday. We were trying to counteract the trauma of our last visit by talking about the nice doctor! Who was going to help! What a nice, nice doctor! Yay, doctor! Roy marched into the office without a care, but in the end really wasn’t cool with getting held down on the exam table again, no matter how painless the procedure. But after the tears, he managed to tell the doctor sanks (thanks) and wave goodbye. As Clint and I drove away from the office, talking about how well it seemed to go, a little voice piped up from the back seat: “Fun.” Little boo. I suppose sometimes it can be as simple as expanding your definition.
Sweet potatoes image by Kristada PanichgulAdd a Comment