The Final Countdown

I've been meaning to get on here and write a quick summary of this pregnancy for weeks now, but have not been able to open this blog and face my last post with out drowning in my own tears. Well, here I sit, drowning in my own tears, but at least I can honestly chalk it up to some INSANE hormonal INSANITY now that I'm three days away from my estimated due date.

Three days.

THREE DAYS HOLY FUCK THREE. DAYS. three.

Strangely, as much as it's fun to play up the panic, I feel very calm. For months I've been telling people that this baby was going to come early. I assumed this because first of all, I was hugemongously pregnant this time around by like five months. I simply couldn't imagine that I would continue to grow all the way to term. Incorrect. Still growing.

Also, Anabella came early by about a week. And first babies are supposed to be the late ones. Everyone says second babies come faster and sooner. Everyone says it so IT MUST BE TRUE. Liars. All of you are hateful liars.

The fact that I'm actually past the point that I thought I'd make it to has bought me some much needed downtime. Allowed me to get organized both materially and physically. It's calmed me and I'm grateful. 

Today I'm 39 weeks and 5 days and don't have many physical signs that this babe is coming. I'm very tired and have been experiencing semi-regular Braxton Hicks contractions for weeks, there's definitely a change a-brewing in my body, but that's about it. As of my appointment last Thursday, no significant dilation or effacement.

I know it can happen quickly once things kick into gear and I anticipate that it will, but truthfully I'm in no rush. I've been loving my quiet time at home. It's been quite a whirlwind few months. Just about everything that could happen at one time happened - from the crazy project at work that occupied my time and my mind for months, to the passing of our Moet, to Bella starting JK (owe you a post on that one too) - it's just been so relentlessly chaotic that there's been little time for reflection on this little life I'm creating.

A blessing in one sense, because it allowed me to get through the hottest summer on record while VERY pregnant without too much time to obsess and whine. It forced me to stand up and wipe the puke of my chin and get my tired ass to work even though I felt like dying for months with nausea and fatigue. It allowed me to grieve the loss of my boy in fits and starts, in small quiet moments that were few and far between. I'm not done with that yet, but I'm getting through it. I miss him no less, but I'm moving past. It allowed us as a family to make the most out of the together time we did have, at the cottage and on non-working weekends, because we understood that time was precious. That being family of three was fleeting.

I finished working on August 31 and though I've still been keeping (too) busy, tackling all the things that I couldn't get around to because of work, I've finally found some time to focus on this new baby that's about to join our clan (THREE DAYS).

This pregnancy is so different from Bella's. Not knowing the gender or having a name (that's right, no names yet, full panic) has left me feeling considerably more detached from whoever it is that's growing inside of me.

With Bella I was able to imagine a little baby girl with dark brown curls and the prettiest name - Anabella - I knew she would be beautiful and tiny and pink. Whenever I thought of her, I thought of her already-born and in our arms. This baby I can picture snuggled up tightly in there. Warm and fat and ready to join us. But I can't imagine what he or she will be like on the outside. I'm excited for that surprise. I'm excited about sharing it with all of our friends and family, but it can be a little frustrating to not know my baby. I feel like I was much more bonded with Bella before she arrived that I am with this little one.

I'm not going to write too much about the pregnancy itself. I'm worried I'll just sound like an ungrateful complainer and we all know there's nothing worse. Fact is, we got pregnant easily and after my miscarriage last summer I consider that to be an absolute gift, which I will never ever take for granted. I have been fundamentally healthy and strong throughout even though I'm considered of 'late maternal age' (UGH). Most importantly our baby appears to be strong, healthy and clearly super comfortable in there. Glad I could be so accommodating, Baby, you're welcome.

I've gained less weight this time (though I still don't recognize myself in the mirror) 35lbs vs the 50lbs I packed on last time. Granted, I started out 10lbs heavier, but HEY THAT STILL PUTS ME 5lbs AHEAD. I'LL TAKE IT. I feel less dread about the body I'll be left with post-partum and more excited about the challenge of getting back to where I'd like to be. It's possible. It's hard work, but it's possible. Besides, this will be my last pregnancy so I'm willing to throw some dollars at myself to fix a few things that I didn't want to bother with last time because I was pretty sure I was going to just fuck it all up again anyway.

I feel good about where Anabella is right now. I think she's really ready to welcome a new person into our lives. I do not kid myself, I know it will be tough on her - on all of us - at times. But I've tried very hard to include her and to talk to her about it all and I know she's super excited. I'm so excited to see my first baby interact with my second. How mind-blowing will that be? I hope I can write about it here and do it justice.

I'm absolutely positive that waiting this long between kids was the best possible move for our family. Bella is a well-adjusted and mature little kid with her own life at school and daycare. She's got friends and established routines that are just hers and will allow her individual time with both Cairn and I. Plus, I have the luxury of being home all day with Baby while she is safe and busy at school next door. Right next door! It could not be more ideal. Way to go us!

This is getting rambly now, that's what happens when you scare yourself away from your own blog by writing with a giant case of the sads, so without further ado here's photographic evidence that I am indeed expecting a (possibly very large) nameless baby in an impossibly very short amount of time. 

13 weeks. 13 week ultrasound. 13 week, 5 days ultrasound. Had some bleeding around this time, hence the second ultrasound. Turned out that my placenta had separated from the uterine wall, but was already reattached by the time the second u/s was taken. It was the only scary moment of the pregnancy so far. Have started taking Diclectin here because of my 24 hour a day nausea and vomiting, which started at around 6 weeks. 

17 weeks. 18 weeks. 19 weeks. Still in my regular clothes here, but starting to yearn for elastic waistbands. I finally stopped throwing up daily somewhere around the 19 week mark, but still felt like doing it all the time. You'll see the weight-gain kick in now... still taking 4 daily doses of Diclectin in order to make it through the day at work.

20 weeks, 22 weeks, 23 weeks. Enter maternity clothing. Both pairs of pants and that dress were used during my first pregnancy, five years ago. Goodbye fashion, hello find something, anything that fits.

24 weeks. 25 weeks. 26 weeks. For some reason pregnant women are compelled to wear stripes. Kind of a can't beat'em, join'em phenomenon. Finally able to ween myself off the medication for morning sickness here. Feeling sooo much better.

26 weeks. This is how much better I am feeling.

27 weeks. 29 weeks. 30 weeks. Have officially given up on pants. Temperatures soar at 35+ degrees every single day and will continue to do so for the next 8 weeks. Our house is a sweat lodge. Have found my spirit animal. It's a pregnant deer in headlights.

31 weeks. 31 and a half weeks. 32 weeks. Finally able to convince Bella to join me in a picture! You may notice the sickly pallor on my face in this series. Morning sickness has returned. Am once again not able to get out of the house or up the street without puking. I think it has a lot to do with the heat, which by this time is really starting to wear me down.

33 weeks. Couldn't resist posting all three.

35 weeks. 36 weeks. 37 weeks. These three weeks were the CRAZIEST and I can't believe I'm even able to hold my shit together enough to take these shots. We lost Moet, I launched a website and I made it to my last day of work!

38 weeks. 39 weeks. Still no baby.

I'll hit full term and my due date in three more days on Friday September 21, which is also my birthday. If I make it to 40 weeks, I'll post that bump photo for sure. But here's hoping that maybe, just maybe, these pictures are about to get a whole lot cuter before that day arrives.

Two of Hearts

I've been thinking a lot about my daughter these days. An awful lot. Not just about her, but about us. About us, as in her and I. About us as in me and her and her father. Us. As in the three of us and a dog. Because in less than 20 weeks 'us' as we know it now it is going to change.

Before I got pregnant with Baby2, I could literally cry at the thought of having another child in the house and stealing that spotlight away from my girl. I struggled with the big question that I'm sure most, if not all, parents struggle with at some point before having a second child - Can I love them as much as I love her? Not will I, because of course I want to, I will try to, I need to, but CAN I? Because honestly I could not imagine, before I was pregnant again, that I could/would ever love anything as much as I love her, in the way that I love her.

Since becoming pregnant and having the pregnancy progress to a point where I'm pretty confident that there will be a happy, healthy baby at the finish line, my doubts about it have disappeared and in there place are certainties that seem as though they should have been obvious all along. 

I will probably never love anyone the same way, maybe even the same amount, that I love Bella. My love for her is just like her, it's just like us. It's unique, it's powerful, it's ever-changing and ever-growing. There is no way that this love, our love, could ever be diminished, or duplicated, by our new addition.

Neither will my love for our new baby be diminished, or duplicated, by my love for Bella. Rather it will be, in fact it already is, a love all unto itself. As unique and powerful, ever-changing and ever-growing, as the love for my first daughter. Just different. I have had the opportunity to love Bella as my only child and as my first child and that is incredibly special. That's a special layer that I will only ever have with "us" as we know it now.

This new one will be the baby in the family. The last child. The little brother or sister. And that is something special that I will only ever love about him or her. All the incredible traits and character that I'm discovering as my daughter grows, I will now get to discover and love about my second born. Probably not the same things, maybe not even the same amount of things - maybe less, maybe more. But love there will be, more than enough, more than I have now. Twice as much. Two of hearts. Love squared and then some.

This morning I was lying in bed, cuddled up around my beautiful daughter, tickling her back and awash in my love for her. At the same time my new baby was waking up, tickling me from the inside. And with every kick and flip and jab, my heart swelled and grew. My love multiplied.

Oops. I Did It Again.

Sorry for the recent radio silence, friends. I've been wanting to at least post about my Bella turning four (FOUR!) years old and put up the last set of pictures of her in the white chair. The thing is? She will NOT SIT for pictures in the white chair. No way, no how. She is definitively and absolutely DONE with PICTURES IN THE WHITE CHAIR. (Sound out the all caps in a determined four-year-old voice for best effect.)

Hmph.

And the problem with that is? She's totally old enough now to make that call. I won't lie and say it doesn't break my heart into 17 million pieces, because it does it so does it hurts and I cry and I want to grab her and stuff her inside my shirt and not let her exercise that damn freewill and keep her as my baby forever, but that's not very rational or logical now is it?

So instead? I've been spending the last four months or so growing one of these:

Baby2 at 13 weeks.

Baby2 at 13 weeks, 6 days.

AHA! Take that grown-kid-freewill-exercising Bella! You don't want any more chair photos? I will merely create another small human who will have no choice to but to pose for me for at least another 3.5 years. Of course they also won't sleep more than two hours at time, require a great deal of personal attention and will  shit on me a lot. Literally.

*HEART ATTACK*

Anyhoo. That's what's up. I'm in my 16th week now and my due date (for what those are worth) is September 21. Some people will recognize that date because it also happens to be my birthday. FREAKY RIGHT? I KNOW.

 It's pretty exciting stuff but in light of what happened last summer I've been incredibly nervous to share this news on any public forum.  I'm still not sure it's the best move but like most things in this life sometimes you just have to breathe deeply and leap. And given the length and extent of the symptoms I've been experiencing this time around, I'm feeling pretty certain that this kid intends on making a very healthy and happy appearance in around six more months.

Because I risk coming off as a whiny ungrateful loser, I'll spare you the specifics on how sick this pregnancy has been making me. Actually fuck it, it's my pregnancy and I'll whine if I want to.

The day I reached the six week mark (on the dot) I woke up thinking I had the worst stomach flu ever. Then it lasted for eight weeks. WITHOUT GOING AWAY AT ALL. At seven weeks I called my doctor sobbing from my office and begging for relief claiming that I was surely going to die. She prescribed me Diclectin immediately and I ran not walked to her office to collect it. I've been taking it four times a day ever since and though it's allowed me to get up and drag my ass to work (in fact I've only missed one day of work thus far, that very first day when I thought I had the flu, stupid me). It did not curb the nausea and it only mildly reduced the vomiting. I have done some spectacular puking. Highlights include, three times on my street one morning in front of a construction crew. Once in a garbage can at the Dufferin Mall. And once in someone's recycling bin on garbage day. (Sorry neighbour).

Gladly, thankfully, blissfully, miraculously, amazingly, somewhere around 14 weeks the nausea started to subside. It's been getting steadily better, though I continue to throw up usually in the morning but at other random times as well. The puking is not fun, but it's no longer preceded and followed by the relentless, endless, pitiless nausea that I experienced in the first trimester. I'll take random barfing over that special brand of hell any day.

Besides, I've been having some really fun symptoms as well. Ever since I stopped feeling nauseous (a week ago), I'm really enjoying food in that OMGthisisthebestthingI'veevertasted pregnancy kind of way. I still have several aversions, but anything that's on the okay list with my hormones is tasting pretty fucking great. I'm also feeling the baby move all the time now. This is much earlier than I ever felt it with Bella.

And there's this, the funnest of all the symptoms:

Bump at 15 weeks.

And by funnest, I mean fattest. I gained 50lbs with Bella and I'm pretty sure I'm setting, if not surpassing, that pace this time around. I'm definitely showing way more. A friend described second pregnancies as "blowing up a balloon that's already been inflated at some point". Yes. That.

Pretty sure this 15 week bump is the same size as my 20 week bump from last time around. I know I'm going to have a hell of a fight on my hands to get back into shape after this baby is born but you know what? I'll deal with it when the time comes. For now I'm going to stop being hard on myself. Do my best to eat as healthy as possible without denying myself the simple delectable pleasure that pregnant eating can be. My doc has advised that I refrain from working out (I have had some bleeding which has now completely stopped), but I can't and I won't unless I see a return of the bleed. I really need the exercise for my physical and mental well-being. 

This will be my last pregnancy. I'm about 95% sure. Crown is 2179% sure. I refuse to take any of it for granted and want to share it and savour every minute of it. It's given me a hell of a time so far but I'm already so beyond in love with my bump and my wee baby. Beyond, beyond, beyond. 

My Lovely Lady Lump: Week 27

Week 27.

Weight Gain: Very close to, if not already by now, 30 lbs. I learned this at my prenatal appointment last week and I'm not ashamed to say that I cried a little.

Milestones this Week (and, since I didn't post, last week too): Last week we had our monthly prenatal appointment and while all seems fine, I expressed a concern over how big I am suddenly. People keep asking if I'm due soon and then telling me that I must be growing a BIG baby. Hi, everyone? Shut up. I can't imagine anything that pregnant women want to hear less than, "Wow, you really got big all of a sudden. That is going to be one hell of a big baby. Ouch." [They make a weird grimace face and shake their head in sympathy.]

Doctor Awesome agreed that, yes, my bump is slightly bigger than average for end of second trimester. Super. He was also quick to say that I am also taller than the average woman so he doesn't think it's an issue. He did offer to schedule me for an ultrasound at 30 weeks just to put my mind at ease. I accepted. I heart ultrasounds.

I also had to drink the orange death juice. Anyone who's been pregs already knows what I'm talking about. Anyone who hasn't been pregs yet, think Orange Crush plus McDonald's Orange Party Drink minus anything that might be good about either of them and you've got the orange death drink. It's to test for gestational diabetes and if I didn't have it before that drink, I'm pretty fucking certain that the sugar content of the test itself has given it to me now.

The chicken and I are at a get-to-know you stage. I'm starting to learn some of her likes and dislikes and in return for my doting on her with her favourite things, she puts on one hell of a fun horse and pony show. I'm positive now that she enjoys pop music, particularly if I sing along. A little JT (you may recall I first felt her move just after his concert this summer) or Brit Brit's "Gimmie More" sends her into a frenzied club-worthy dance off. She's bopping around so much in there that my bump gets to buckling like a house of cards during an earthquake.

She does not like being seated for long periods of time at my desk. If I'm still for too long, she will kick up a fuss, usually by stomping on my kidney. It's kind of a - get the hell up and move already woman, I'm all crushed and cramped in here, shit - type of kicking. Not so comfortable.

Here's the bump this week - my last week in the second trimester - home stretch here we come:

My Lovely Lady Lump: Week 25

Week 25.

Weight Gain: Have purposely been avoiding the scale out of sheer terror. I'm not even kidding. I'm horrified. I feel as though complete denial is the only option at this point.

Milestones this week: Guess what ya'll? I'm huge. I don't know if it's a hormone surge or what but suddenly this week I have switched from feeling kind of sexy-pregnant to feeling like an absolutely hideous ogre. The physicality of pregnancy has really set in for me this week. All of a sudden a lot of things that I've always taken for granted are suddenly next to impossible.

Putting on pants without sitting down first? No go. Tying my shoes from a standing position? Forget about it. Being graceful while doing anything? Over and done with. I feel big and awkward, clumsy and sore. I'm trying so hard not to waddle, but I can't seem to keep myself straight. It's hard. I wish I could laugh about it... but I think I need a little more time to adjust.

The reactions from people are not helping either. I used to think that maybe pregnant women were being overly sensitive when they said how upset they would get by other's people's comments about their size. But I get it now. When someone asks how far along you are and you tell them and they they say, "Holy shit? Really? You have three more months?!" Yeah, it kind of hurts. Luckily, I'm a good sport and have been able to shake it off and chalk it up to par for the course. Let's face it - it is pretty fucked up what happens to the body. It would just be nice to hear a little more positive reinforcement now and then to help me get through.

All that aside though, I really am loving being pregnant. I am definitely developing a bond with my little chicken in a big way. She makes me smile, I love feeling her move. I can tell she is strong, and probably a little feisty. And for the time being, she is still all mine. Crown's not too interested in touching her or talking to her yet, my mom is out of town so can't fawn all over her as I know she's looking forward to doing upon her return, so she's mine and I already love her enough to make all the discomforts and unpleasantness of pregnancy well worth it. For her I'd go through it a million times more.

Now, if only I could get a little closer to giving her a proper name... but more on that great debate later.

Here's the lump at 24 weeks and 5 days:

Island in the Sun

I've been meaning to post about Cuba for weeks now. Three weeks to be exact. I just haven't quite gotten my act together. Mostly because I'm lazy. Anyway, it probably would have been ass boring for you to read much about the week anyway, since in a nutshell it was spent sleeping, lying down, floating and eating.

So instead here are a few choice shots from a beautiful week. Although it seems almost a lifetime ago already - I will whole-heartedly recommend taking the time out before a new arrival and jetting off on a last-blast Babymoon with your lover.

What an amazing way to take time out to reflect on your pregnancy, your baby-to-be and most importantly spend some much needed time on your relationship with your partner, outside of your day-to-day grind, away from daily stresses and chores. I don't like to say that it might be a long time before the two of us get to enjoy another solitary week in paradise together... but let's face it... it might.

A room with a view:
If you like Pina Coladas:

Beach bliss:


At the end of the point:


A beautiful hotel in Old Havana:


La touristas:

More Old Havana:

Viva la revolucion:


And last but not least, channeling Britney Spears:

My Lovely Lady Lump: Week 21

Week 21.

Week 21 was actually last week, sorry I couldn't update, was in Cuba having the time of my life. If by having the time of my life I mean sleeping. Which I do. Yes, week 21 can be marked by mucho sleeping, eating, beaching, swimming and sunning. In other words pure and utter paradise for Beaches - where do you think the nick name comes from?

But more on Cuba in a soon-to-come post.

Weight gain in week 21 was pretty extreme. I'll give you the finally tally in my week 22 post, coming soon. Let's just leave it for now at - all you can eat buffet, every day, for seven days. Need I say more?

Milestones this week: Got caught up on sleep for first time since May. Seriously. It was the first time in five months that I actually woke up one morning and was not tired. Amazing what paradise can do for you.

Baby Girl Champagne started to try and physically break out of her warm watery habitat. I'm thinking maybe she wanted a cigar and a mojito (yeah, me too kid, guess what, sometimes life ain't fair). Her kicks and punches are now visible from the outside, if you catch them at just the right time. She's moving all the time now, several times a day, and she is very strong. She even wakes me up at night with her crazy antics. I suppose I might as well get used to it.

Here's a good kick story. Please skip ahead to photos if you are afraid of gross.

One thing I never really thought about before pregnancy was that the wee kicks and punches are not only felt on the top of your tummy. No sir. This kid kicks organs. Organs I've never really felt from the inside before. Organs like um, the bladder and bowel. You can see where this is going.

Crown and I decide to go for a leisurely stroll along the beautiful Varadero beach one afternoon. I had recently peed but let's face it, the ocean was right there in case of urgent emergency. I wasn't concerned. We walked pretty far - all the way to the end of the point, at least a couple of kms. We get to the end, take a few pictures, admire the view. Suddenly, little chicken wakes up and starts doing gymnastics. A back handspring to the bellybutton. A somersault to the gut, and then... oh! The trampoline... on my BOWEL.

I'm not sure if you can quite imagine what happens to a full bowel if a 10 inch parasite starts to do JUMPING JACKS on it but let me explain. You suddenly and urgently feel the need to shit yourself. Suddenly our romantic beach walk? NOT SO VERY ROMANTIC ANYMORE. This story ends well, my friends, but I'm not sure how. I literally thought, several times during my fast and painful walk back to the resort, that I was going to shit in my bikini right in the middle of this pristine, sunny, white sand beach. Because when a baby bounces on your bowels, you gotta go and you gotta go RIGHT NOW. You simply can't hold it in. You're squeezing one way, she's jumping the other and before too long, she is going to win.

Chalk one up for Mama this time, Kiddo. I made it to the banyos without mishap using pure self-restraint and sheer determination. It may have been our first battle of wills but it certainly will not be our last. Remember my sweet, strong, determined baby girl, your Mom? She's tougher than you.

Sorry for the gross - had to share. And now, as a reward for listening. I give you Beach Belly:


Blocking out the sun:


Displacing a good portion of the ocean:


And as a special bonus, a little family shot that I like to call, Porno Tits:

My Lovely Lady Lump: Week 20

Week 20.
18 lbs heavier than b.b.b. I might stop counting pretty soon.

Milestones this week: Half way there! Woohoo! Holy fuck. Ack.

So, today is my 32 birthday. My last sans child. Kind of creepy. To celebrate this, and our 1 year wedding anniversary (also this week) Crown and I are heading off into hurricane territory to take a much belated honeymoon/early babymoon in Cuba.

The Momes has been shipped off to Mom's. Let it be public knowledge that I dropped him off in almost perfect health. It's her turn to try not to kill him for a week. I miss him already. Isn't that pathetic?

Just finished my packing. Getting a much needed mani/pedi in the morning before we take off (thanks Chops for the gift certificate). Now am headed to bed. Can't wait to have our day of travel over and just get there and lie down. Think I'll just lie down for seven whole days. Bliss.

Sorry about the shitty picture this week - we've been too busy to snap a real one. Will do it up tropical styles next week.

Blog ya when I'm back, ya'll.

My Lovely Lady Lump: 19 weeks

Week 19.


No idea how much heavier I am this week because I haven't made it to the gym even ONCE. And the gym is where the scale is. Mere fact that I haven't made it should give you some indication that things are probably not looking good on the weight gain front. Monday. Starting fresh.

Milestones this week. Ohhhh! A doozy! I had my 19 week ultrasound on Monday. Wow, Sir. Who knew it would be so intense? I kinda thought Crown and I'd go in, they'd rub that gooey wand on me for a few minutes, pronounce the gender of my baby and we'd shed a tear and giggle with joy and that would be that. Wrongo.

First of all that shit lasted almost an HOUR. Crown had to sit in the waiting room for about 58 minutes of it. My technician wanted to go on her lunch break and the chicken wasn't cooperating. Little bugger was facing down, towards my spine, so the tech couldn't get the facial shots she needed. She had me roll this way and that, get up and go pee, cough, more rolling... still nothing. So instead, while she waited for Baby to roll over, she just scanned and rescanned the kid. She must have counted those fingers like four times. She spent a lot of time looking at the "four chamber view" of the heart. I was just glad to hear that there were four.

Meanwhile, I stared and stared hard at her face, worried that if I took my eyes off her for an instant I would miss a flash of uncertainty or concern that might indicate that my baby had two heads or something. Not this woman though - she was a statue! My baby could probably have actually had two heads and she still wouldn't have so much as flinched.

Good news, my baby does not have two heads. Although the tech would not reveal a thing to us during the exam, I called my doc the next day to get the results and was thankfully informed that everything is 100% perfect.

Oh? And the part you're really waiting for? The part that the technician not only wouldn't tell us, but would hardly let us look at for ourselves on the screen? Not even pausing long enough to let us squint and stare and guess? Well, yes, I found that out as well.

Looks like this little chicken is a hen. We're having a baby girl.

My Lovely Lady Lump: Week 18

(Sorry so late - I'm a week behind due to the worst week in recent history. Week 19 to follow shortly.)

Week 18.

15 lbs heavier than b.b.b., according to the scale at the gym last Friday. Hate the gym scale but don't have one at home so it will have to do. I swear it is a lying biotch.

Milestones this week: Survived a serious family crisis over the long weekend and everyone (The Momes included, thank God!) came out alive and kicking. In fact, the little chicken is really kicking! So much so that on Saturday night Crown was able to feel the first little punts right through my lower belly. This week the movements have definitely changed from a swooshing, rollercoaster-like flipflop feeling to real, defined little kicks and punches. I love it! It's fast becoming the best part of my day.

Also attended, participated in and finished my first step class since discovering the chicken. It was SO fun! I've been doing this same Friday afternoon step class for almost six years now and had really missed it. Was great to be back and feeling strong enough to work up a good, pre-preggy sweat. That's right, ya'll. Still got it.

Finally, me and Dings (did I mention she's preggers too? Due three weeks after me!) signed up for a prenatal Pilates class. Psyched. Can't wait to start it! Am love, love, loving the second trimester.

Sorry about picture quality. Because of the Moet Ordeal we weren't able to find the time to take a proper picture, so I took this self portrait using the MAC's Photo Booth feature. I feel like the bump has stopped growing out front this week and instead all the growth is happening out back in the "love handle" region. Not cute. Note strategically placed hands. Thank me, I'm sparing your eyes.

My Lovely Lady Lump: Week 17

Week 17.

11lbs heavier than b.b.b. I know, not supposed to be getting lighter, but this was what the doctor's scale told me on Monday, so this is what we're going with this week. Shut up.

Milestone this week: Hearing baby's heartbeat at my second prenatal appointment. It sounded like this: thwumpthwumpthwumpthwump. No really. Exactly like that. It was pounding away at 136 bpms, the perfect speed according to doc.

This week, two pictures for your viewing pleasure. The first is the regular Lady Lump photo, always taken first thing in the morning to ensure tautness and consistency.

The second is a self portrait, taken using Mac's fun Photo Booth feature. This one I took today (so 17 weeks, 3 days) at the end of the day after much eating. Note the difference and don't judge.

My Lovely Lady Lump: Week 16

Week 16.
14 lbs heavier than b.b.b. (WTF?!? But that's what the scale at the gym tells me. Sob.)
Sorry about the P.J. bottoms. Had a terrible cold. Couldn't be bothered to put on something cuter for the photo.
Milestone this week: Discovering that Baby likes pop music.
24 more weeks to go.

Is There Anybody In There?

So the time period between "so sick that you think you might barf your fetus out through your mouth" and "feeling better but so huge that you can't help but start to complain again" is a very strange time in pregnancy. And I'm in it.

The thing that is so weird about it this - you know you are pregnant, other people know you are pregnant, but you don't always "feel" pregnant. You just kind of feel like you - but swollen.

I think the issue is this - morning sickness, as horrible as it is, at least gives you a constant (and I mean constant) physical reminder that something is happening inside of you. Early in your 2nd trimester, while you do begin to show a lot more, there's no sickness reminding you that your parasite is growing and thriving. You can't feel it moving yet, so it's almost as if there's nothing going on. In fact, you worry that maybe there ISN'T anything going on.

I've had moments of panic where I suddenly think,

"Oh my God. What if I'm not pregnant at all and I've told everybody that I am. Plus I got so fat. HOW EMBARRASSING."

It's irrational but I blame hormones.

My point is, for the last few weeks I've been impatiently waiting to feel this little chicken inside me start to move. And waiting. And waiting. And... nothing. Nothing that is until Tuesday night. Apparently my baby likes Justin Timberlake.

Okay - have your laugh. Yes, I am 31, married and pregnant and still not ashamed to admit that I went to see JT and I love every minute of it. He did in fact rock my body and I think he rocked Baby's wee body too. It could have had something to do with the bottle of Coke I drank during the show, but I got home and laid in bed and I felt something. It was something that I've never felt before. Not at all the way I've heard the first tiny movements described by others.

Not like "popcorn" or "fluttering" or "butterflies" at all. A little more like "gas bubbles" as some describe it, but not quite like that either. To me it was more of a deep, strong sensation. Nothing airy and bubbly about it. If you make a fist with one hand and roll your knuckles along the inside of your other hand... it kind of felt like that and it was happening way down low down in my abdomen.

This sensation happened on and off for about half an hour, until I finally fell asleep. I didn't think too much of it until the next day, when the same thing happened again during my spinning class. It has happened on and off since, still rather infrequently, but also unmistakeable. Something is in there, alive and kicking.

And I think he or she is pop music fan. Sorry Crown. You're about to be outnumbered. Me and this kid? We're bringing sexy back.

My Lovely Lady Lump: 15 Weeks

My bump, my bump, my lovely baby bump.
Week 15.
11lbs heavier than b.b.b. (before baby bump). Very clearly not "all baby." Ahem.
25 more weeks to go.