month seven

Third trimester, here I come.

I'm having the most textbook pregnancy ever. This month was filled with a lot of running around making fun so I really tested my boundaries. I can still walk a lot, carry a lot, and generally do most everything I ever did. No, I'm not jumping on a skateboard or going to a wine testing, so you can relax. But, I continue to be pretty active and am taking my long walks at lunch and evening.

I put on more weight in my face, arms, hips, etc. In other words, that basketball I hoped to hide under my shirt is now an ephemeral hoop dream. I blame yogurtland. It's Pomegranete-raspberry tart wonderfulness is the final evil upon the world and will cause all humans to destroy one another eventually.

The little girl is now too large to do flips in my uterus and is getting so much stronger. You can see my tummy bounce when she is active. She likes to stick some appendage up under my ribcage and into my lungs from time to time. I can tell if she is sideways or up-and-down and am getting to know her daily rhythms. When she stretches while she rolls, it feels gives me a internal flesh-crawling sensation and you can totally see her butt jutting out in the asymmetry of my bump. She should be about 2.3 pounds and 15 inches long by now. I still crave more fresh veggies and fruits than anything else.

We are starting to make concrete arrangements to welcome this little life: staging all the things we will need, cleaning, gathering, sorting, washing and folding clothes and little finger sized socks. I started the registry, but had no idea how difficult it would be to figure out what to put on it. We have been gifted so much that only the things you need tons of or don't know you need until you need them are left: medicines, wipes, etc. It's hardly the sexy type of thing that people want to get for you. And I doubt anyone will give us round trip airfare to Denmark. But, that would be cool, wouldn't it? (They don't have it at the store I'm registering at, so I guess we'll have to think of something else.)

This whole thing still feels so unreal. It's just a really big step and is hard to process. I see a little baby in a stroller and either get all goofy-happy inside or start to hyperventilate. I think that when you have an awesome relationship with your spouse, it's hard to transition to being "three" without some concern about what you are giving up. I know that Mark and I approach everything with really realistic expectations, and that is the most crucial ingredient for satisfaction with outcomes. So, logically, I know. Everything. Will. Be. Okay.

I can't hear that enough. That and that my husband will still love me when I am a deflated lactating balloon with a wailing detachable Dictator.