Well, I’ve reached 25 weeks of being pregnant! With the nausea gone, it’s gotten to the
point where I often forget I’m even pregnant.
And then Stormageddon moves or I look down and notice that I’ve gained
quite a few inches around the waist. I’m
pretty proud about the fact that the rest of my body is staying pretty fit
though; thank you so much for your genes, Mum!
I was trying to explain what it feels like when the little
man moves to The Man the other night, and I came up with this explanation: You
know how sometimes you can feel gas bubbles moving through your colon? It feels like that, except it’s a much bigger
gas bubble so I feel it throughout my entire belly area.
Speaking of big gas bubbles (haha, if you read “big gas” as
one word that phrase is much better), apparently Stormageddon is about the size
of an ear of corn right now. I’m not
sure if that “measurement” is from head to butt or head to toe though, because
I’m right around the time where they stop measuring one way and start measuring
another. Either way, he’s getting big
enough that delivery is starting to be more real and scary.
I’m actually getting more scared about delivery by the week. See, I’ve started volunteering at a local
hospital, and since all the radiology volunteer spots were filled and I can’t
stand the sight of blood, I signed on with the mother/baby ward. It’s where the mums go after they deliver,
and the nursery is on my floor too. I
mainly set up rooms and make sure everything is ready for when the mothers and
babies come down. Here’s what I’ve been
reminded of: I will be in pain and exhausted after Stormy pops out (to the
point that the nurses will be excited if I feel well enough to walk around the
ward). I will be bleeding like the
dickens (seriously, I have to put so many blood-catching devices in their
rooms…). Babies are tiny, but still big
enough that just imagining them crowning is painful. A lot of crying is in my near future, but at
least it will be the tiny newborn cry for a while (how long exactly, I’m not
sure). Breastfeeding sucks for a time
(ha…haha…). And most importantly: I need
to remember to listen to my nurses. They
know what they’re talking about and I just won’t half the time.
New topic: the name.
Everyone wants to know what names we’ve thought of and here’s the
problem: The Man and I aren’t good namers.
We named our cat “C.A.T.,” for goodness’ sake. At the same time though, we’re super stubborn
and independent and we want to come up with the name ourselves. So we’re kind of in a rut. It’s so bad we’re even considering bad puns
for his name (Otto Maddoc is one of them – my dad likes it so much he’s decided
to call Stormy “Otto” regardless of what we actually name him). Then there’s the problem of wanting to honor
grandparents but having to make a decision about which one you’re going to
honor first. I don’t know. We’ll have a name eventually, just…ask me
when the kid is born. We have no idea
right now.
What else? I haven’t
really had cravings yet (no more so than before I was pregnant). Stormageddon is big enough that when he
moves, I can see it (still no differentiation of body parts though). He gets super excited after I exercise. The other day I did yoga for an hour and then
swam laps for a half hour; when I sat down to rest he decided to perform
Riverdance to show his appreciation. He
already likes to kick CAT, but she ignores it.
He is SUPER stubborn about not kicking for The Man. Seriously, he’ll be moving like crazy, and as
soon as I grab The Man’s hand so he can feel, Stormageddon just stops
moving. The Man takes it as a sign that
Stormy will be a rebellious kid that does stuff behind his back. Honestly though, I think Stormy will like his
dad more when he comes out; The Man likes babies a lot more than I do. I struggle with breathing sometimes, I’m hot
all the time (one reason to stay home: you don’t have to wear clothes), and I’m
convinced I will never sleep comfortably again.
I hate sleeping on my side SOOOO much.
And I’ve tried pillows, different surfaces, being exhausted, and
everything else they suggest; I just can’t get comfortable. The night this kid is out I’m sleeping on my
belly again and it’s going to be awesome.
Unless I have to have a C-Section.
Then I will curse Stormy’s name (whatever it may be) for months.
