Notes on a Baby Half Baked

Tomorrow is 20 weeks.  20!  That’s, like, halfway or something (yes, I realize the first two don’t really count and there will probably be some extra at the end, but I’m not counting those two things).  Halfway, yay!!  I deserve a prize.

Here is a bulleted list of exciting things that have happened lately:

  •  I am now feeling the baby’s movements more regularly.  As I type this, Stowaway is practicing a game s/he likes to call “beat up Mommy.”  Still, Stowaway is a little picky and will only perform such tricks for me.  Mr. Cookie felt vague movements once, but so far every time there is a spate of kicking, as soon as I call Mr. C over to feel it, it stops.  Boo.
  • The heartburn that I had been experiencing pretty regularly seems to have abated for now.  Huzzah!
  • I’ve noticed that my belly button is now getting shallower, and consequently the scar from a laparoscopic procedure I had about ten years ago is becoming more obvious.  This fascinates me for some reason.
  •  I have now made an agreement with Stowaway:  s/he will promise to be under 13 pounds, and I will take “Jihad” off my list of possible names.

I think that is all for now.  This promises to be our last quiet weekend before the holidays, so maybe I’ll finally get those belly shots up that we’ve been taking since something like week 10 and haven’t managed to actually post yet.  You never know!

EDIT:  All my life, I have astounded people with my ability to remember finite details of events long past.  I have a really good memory, and until lately that has included short and long term.  Lately, it’s as if my fetus is eating my brains (Attack of the Zombie Fetus.  I’m calling Hollywood).  What was I saying?  Oh yeah.  Today at lunch, I unpacked not one, but two Chobani Black Cherry yogurts from my bag.  Hmmm.  I distinctly remember opening the fridge this morning and thinking “huh, I thought we had more of those left” as I grabbed  a yogurt and tossed it into my lunch bag.  Apparently we did, because I’d already packed one (most likely seconds before, since I was in a hurry this morning).  Silly me.  Silly pregnancy.

1 Response so far »

  1. 1

    Erika said,

    Hee. Bobo was a “no tricks” fetus. She’d wiggle or do something otherwise cute and fascinating (you know, to first-time parents) and then when we’d try for a re-creation (often so I could feel it), she would stop. “I am not your puppet. I will not be bossed about,” she said. And now, on the outside…still kinda true.

    Sarah is shocked that your blog is snowing.

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