Serious Lack of Focus

We have our second trimester ultrasound today at 115. I can't focus at all. I keep thinking about whether we'll find out the gender! C'mon Swimmy- do your stuff!

Please send me all your focus mojo. I can't seem to get Swimmy off the brain. Probably why I usually schedule these appointments for first thing in the morning.

Maybe the mango ate your baby?

Oh how I love a little Seinfeld. You guessed it: this week, Swimmy is the size of a mango. S/he is about six inches long and eight ounces or so in weight. Arms and legs are finally in proportion to the rest of Swimmy's body, and a protective coating called vernix caseosa covers Swimmy's skin. Most websites describe this coating as "cheese-like" which is more than a little gross. Evidently, this coating will keep Swimmy from getting all pruny whilst enjoying his/her nine month spa treatment in utero.

As for me, I continue to feel Swimmy's movements (at least I think that's what I'm feeling). A new added pleasure: leg cramps that wake me up from a dead sleep. It's like when I used to wear too-high heels to work. Lately, I have fallen victim to the deadly loafer, and I stand a mere 5'8". Sad, but true. I have zero motivation to wear heels.

Mostly things are progressing in a very same old, same old way. And I don't mind at all.

But, I am most excited because on WEDNESDAY we find out whether our little Swimster is a boy or a girl. And I can. not. contain. my. excitement. More from me Wednesday night.

Mama Jones out.

An Ode to Pregnancy Meltdowns

So there we were, husband and I, driving along the Hana Highway in our rented convertible with the top down. We had everything we needed for a perfect cruise of the road to Hana: picnic lunch--check; sunscreen--check; sunglasses--check; tasty snacks and beverages for the road--check; CD guide with lots of historical and geological information about the area that I had researched thoroughly to make sure we got just the right one--check.

We're driving along and I go to put the CD in the player. It seems to not want to go in, so I take it out, slightly frustrated, and try again. This time the CD goes in. Except it's not all the way in. I can see its edge poking out the insert slot. Of course, it's not out enough to grab and try again. And it's not in enough to play. The radio display reads "MECHANICAL ERROR." No kidding.

So, what is the logical reaction? To cry of course. And struggle to make the radio do something, anything. No luck. Struggle, struggle, struggle, cry, cry, cry. Husband pulls the car over to help on the side of the highway. The tears are pouring out now, and I'm breathing that can't-catch-your-breath-because-you're-crying-too-hard sob, and poor husband is looking at me like I am total psycho (at this point, it's not far from the truth), and he's trying to calm me down, while at the same time trying to either push the CD in or pull it out. All to no avail.

Again, what is the logical response? To continue wailing and hit the door of the car? Well, I certainly thought so. Just as I had finished my physical assault on the car door, what happens? The CD pops out? Not exactly.

I look to my left, and there are the Maui police, looking at me and asking if everything is ok. Oh my gosh. It's like I could finally see myself for the crazed woman I'd become, and I was mortified. The tears continued as I attempted to assure the policemen that yes, in fact, I was ok, no, my husband was not assaulting me, and I was simply having a pregnant meltdown and was overreacting to the fullest degree of overreaction. I have never been more appalled and mortified by my own behavior, and honestly, in the moment, I had not even been aware of what a monster I'd turned into.

After the police left (not often I have to say that), the husband used his Swiss army knife to retrieve the CD and reload it. It worked like a charm.

Sigh.

Avocadoes, Sweet Potatoes, and Canteloupes, OH MY! My body is a regular farmer's market.

Sorry blogosphere,

I have neglected you for nearly a week and a half. And I do sincerely regret it. But I was in Hawaii, basking in tropical sunshine. I didn't want anything to do with typing or thinking or anything along those lines. Can you blame me? I mean, there were sea turtles to be snorkled with! And virgin mai tais to be drunk! And sand to burn my toes on! And lava flows to be viewed!

Weeks 16 and 17 were, therefore, quite wonderful weeks. The husband and I enjoyed a little babymoon on the Big Island and Maui. And it may have been the best vacation I've ever taken. Top three at a minimum.

Swimmy continued his/her growing and topped out at avocado size (which I may or may not have mentioned in my last post). S/he also is starting to build up fat stores on his/her body. In fact, fat will make up 2/3 of Swimmy's body weight when s/he is born. Incroyable! Also, his/her hearing continues to develop (in fact, I read that babies who hear barking in utero will be able to sleep through barking later). Let's hope that's true. Miss Phineas loves to yap at passers-by while sitting guard on the arm chair. What a ferocious beast. Also, during these next few weeks, Swimmy's fingerprints and toe prints are developing. S/he is becoming her very own little person. Much less alien, much more baby.

During week 17, s/he will top out at sweet potato size. My uterus appears to be strolling the produce section as well. By the end of this week, it'll be the size of a canteloupe. Which is saying something given its original fist-sized origins.

The most remarkable change in me has been my appetite--which has become insatiable. Seriously, I am a one-woman eating machine. Always hungry. And I definitely think I can maybe feel Swimmy moving around in there. Which is truly one of the coolest feelings I've ever had.

Oh! And to make up for my dilatory blogging, I promise you a tale of intrigue, excitement, and pregnancy-induced psychosis for your reading pleasure tomorrow. I know you can all barely contain your excitement.

In the meantime, check out this article, which links to a study suggesting that light to moderate drinking may actually be ok during pregnancy. Fascinating.

Alien Baby

We had another prenatal appointment this morning. The husband and I are leaving for Hawaii (!!) on Wednesday at the crack o' dawn, and the doctor wanted to see us before we left so he could check on everything and send me to the great tropical beyond with my chart. Just in case.

And, I'm happy to report, everything is just great. Swimmy's heart was beating right around 155 bpm, and s/he was wiggling all over my stomach again. It was hard for the nurse to keep a handle on the heartbeat with the doppler.

Doc also checked my placenta (is it really the baby's placenta?), and everything appears to be normal there too. Because he wanted to have a look at the placenta, we got an extra ultrasound (yay!), and I was really hoping we'd be able to tell whether it was a boy or girl. The doctor, though, isn't nearly as good at the ultrasound machine as the technician is. So, we still got to see the little nugget. But no word yet whether said nugget is of the male or female varietal. Above is the alien picture (don't know why the spine says alien to me, but it does), and here's a side view of Little Swimmy. As an aside, the pictures are crummy cause they are pictures of pictures taken with my phone. It will have to do though as that is the extent of my technological savvy.



Also, for those of you keeping track via produce, this week Swimmy is the size of an avocado, which makes me want to make guacamole. Also this week, the bones in Swimmy's ears are hardening, and s/he can hear when I speak. So cool. Also, even though his/her eyes are still fused shut, s/he can sense light, so if I were to shine a flashlight at my tum, Swimmy would move away.

Orange you glad I didn't forget to post?

OK,OK. I know that this post is technically late given that Ol' Swimmy and I are starting week 16 today (in other words, baby's gestational age is now 15 weeks, 0 days today), but let's just pretend it's still last week, mmmkay? Don't let the counting confuse you. It's tricky. So for anyone who asks, I'm 15 weeks along, but I'm actually in my 16th week of pregnancy. Clear as mud? Well, here's another thing: pregnancy lasts nine months, no? Well how come it's forty weeks? My (fairly remedial) math tells me that forty divided by four is ten, not nine. Oh, confusing counting--there must be a simpler way. Though doctors kinda sorta have to count this way though because there's really no telling when Little Swimmy was conceived exactly (sorry for the TMI, mom). So, that's that.

More about last week. Swimmy was the size of a large navel orange, which is practically a billion times larger than s/he was at week 6 when s/he was just a tiny rice-sized blob of cells without even a placenta to call home. Not to mention tasty--the orange, not the baby. More on that in a minute. It's astounding to me how fast babies develop. Last week Swimmy developed the ability to breath, suck, and swallow, and s/he'll continue to practice those skills for his or her big debut in March. Also Swimmy's getting quite adept at his/her water aerobics, flipping and turning, and swimming like nobody's business in there. Lastly, Swimmy's lookin' more like a baby and less like an alien now. The ears are properly positioned on his or her little head, and s/he's gonna look positively baby-like on the ultrasound on the 27th. It's amazing how much I look forward to ultrasounds and a little glimpse inside my (rapidly-exapanding) uterus at our baby. It never fails to bring tears to this hormonal lady's eyes.

As for me, last week, I felt good. Really good. Almost normal. My energy levels have soared in the last two weeks, and I don't dread dragging myself to the gym for a little walk. In fact, last week, I was so motivated, I took two yoga classes, modifying them with all the requisite prenatal changes. It felt really good to stretch and move. Two days later, however, I was cursing that yoga teacher all over town because I. was. s-o-r-e! Ridiculous. Evidently some of those muscles hadn't been dusted off in about two months. It wasn't a bad sore; it actually felt really good. (So, please don't worry anyone, I'm not overdoing it. In fact, my OB works out at my gym, so I'm sure he'd scold me if he saw me doing anything ridiculous). As an aside, it's quite awkward to see your OBGYN at the gym. It's like worlds colliding.

I don't appear to be gaining too much weight. The goal now is one pound per week (or so), and I am enjoying every moment of eating. I try and eat healthy things--in fact, salads taste really good to me right now. And fruit. And pickles. Oh man, do I love pickles. The other day, I had Life cereal followed by pickles for breakfast. Sweet followed by salty. Breakfast o' champions, no? I do allow myself to indulge a little bit too. My favorite not-so-healthy snacks these days: tootsie rolls, cow butts (those little bullseye looking things with caramel on the outside and cream in the middle), and mentos. Oh, what I would do for a strawberry mentos. Yes, I know candy's not a food group, but a little won't kill me. Or Little Swimmy. In fact, it's kind of fun to eat sugar because I can feel Swimmy flutter around in there. The feeling is getting more pronounced, and I really can't wait until it can be felt from the outside so the hubs can feel him or her squiggle around in there, too.

Well, speaking of hubs, I can hear him pulling in the driveway with my decaf pumpkin spice latte. (He is seriously the best husband in the world). So, it's time to sign off and go enjoy a cup of fall goodness.