[Contents: medical, TMI]
WEEK TWENTY-SIX.
TWENTY. SIX.
AAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHH
Basically, this week? Shit has gotten REAL.
Hitting the halfway point at 20 weeks was pretty awesome, and hitting 24 weeks (and therefore the edge of fetal viability in many cases) was also pretty awesome, seeing as how I'm considered at higher risk of delivering pre-term. But all of a sudden this past week, now that I'm past the "100 days left" mark, AAAAHHHHH HOLY SHIT HAVING A KID IN LIKE THREE MONTHS OH MY FUCK GOD.
I've also been nesting hardcore. Like... yes, I am awake at 6:30 am for no good goddamn reason, this is a COMPLETELY reasonable time to look at dressers for the kid on Craigslist. I HAVE TO FIND ONE RIGHT NOW, OKAY? I EVEN HAVE A PLAN OF HOW IT'S GOING TO FIT IN WHAT IS NOW THE SPARE ROOM AND WE DON'T EVEN HAVE TO TAKE ANY OF MY ANTIQUE SEWING MACHINES OUT IT'S GREAT TRUST ME.
I did find a dresser yesterday. The Man even likes it. I just have to make sure it will fit through the doors in my old-ass house. I already measured the spare room. It fits.
(I may or may not have been doing measuring at some obnoxious hour of the night at some point this week.)
I realize that this is also partly prompted by the fact that I came back from 2013's Midwestern Holiday with my family with ZOMG SO MUCH BABY STUFF. My mom? Is kind of excited. And keeps buying things. Like clothes. And blankets. And a snow suit. And and and.
She also hauled out the bassinet from their crawlspace. Said bassinet was used for me and my two siblings, so I think it actually qualifies as antique now? My mom and dad all tested it out to make sure it was stable and in good shape and it got the green light, so I hauled that home too. No of course I didn't get a little weepy about it why would you even ask such a question? (I totally got weepy over it. More than once.)
But yeah, so now there's multiple boxes and bags of baby stuff just getting piled in what is currently the spare room. Boxes of diapers. Bags of clothes. An entire box just of blankets. A giant bassinet chilling out. An entire tub of stuffed animals ALREADY. So I'm really feeling the need to have a place to put these things AWAY.
Meanwhile, in the medical arena, if you follow me on Twitter, you know that I had a SURPRISE cerclage put in just before leaving for 2013 Midwestern Holiday. SO FUN. Basically, a cerclage is where they literally sew your cervix shut so it stays that way. Turns out my cervix had shortened pretty significantly between one ultrasound and another, and while a cerclage is not at all what I'd planned for or wanted, I knew, unequivocally, that it was the correct choice. So my doctor and the hospital did some scrambling on my behalf to get me in to surgery that night, so I could leave for the holidays. I do have a post coming up on what the experience and recovery was like, but the short version is it's fine, I'm fine, everything is okay.
Everything really is okay though - I had a follow-up with my maternal-fetal medicine specialist when I returned from 2013 Midwestern Holiday, and my cervix was actually LONGER than it had ever been, which is amazing, wonderful news, and means that I no longer have to see a specialist. I just get to go to my regular OB/midwife team. No more ultrasounds every ten days, no more extra appointments. As much as I love my specialist, she and I were both thrilled that I don't have to see here any more right now. My midwife was also thrilled - she gave me a big ol' hug at my appointment last week. In her words, "MFM NEVER lets anyone go! I am so happy for you!" So right now, I am considered to be having a normal, low-risk pregnancy. Which is amazing.
The Kid is measuring right on for gestational age, except for hir legs, which are measuring long. Unsurprising; The Man and I are both 6' tall ourselves. I have a brother who is like 6'6", and a cousin who is like 6'8", and a few uncles up there too, and my mom is 5'11", so, you know, tall folks, we gots 'em. I also gained seven whole pounds over the holidays YAAAAAY. I am pretty sure this was because my mom was feeding me. A lot. And also refusing to let me do p much anything resembling work, no matter how small.
This week The Kid has also managed to kick me in a few places that prompt me to go HOW DID YOU REACH THERE WHAT ARE YOU DOING OMG. We've definitely reached the "rabid weasel in a canvas sack" stage of fetal kicking. Around Christmas I was pretty sure my belly was twitching, but not entirely. There is no mistaking it now. The other day I was sitting on the couch without a bra on, so my boobs were definitely resting on top of my belly, and The Kid KICKED MY BOOB. Awesome, yet so, so freaky.
The Kid is also highly contrariwise, and enjoys kicking ultrasound and Doppler wands, but not hir father's hands when said hands are on my belly. It's like freaking magic. The Kid can be kicking up a freaking storm, The Man puts his hand on my belly, EVERYTHING STOPS. Man takes his hand away, KICK-KICK-KICK-KICK-SOMERSAULT-PUNCH. What the hell, Kid.
I also definitely, definitely have a prominent belly now. Even over Christmas, my mom and a couple other relatives were like oh yeah, you look pregnant, holy crap. But it's REALLY noticeable now. And I can't wear most of my jeans anymore, even unbuttoned with a Bella Band. They're just too tight for my belly. I am rocking yoga pants so hard right now, y'all. And kind of walking funny. My pelvis continues to spread (and crack, disconcertingly), so usually when I get up from bed it takes me about a dozen steps walking crooked and stooped before everything falls back in to place and I can more or less stand up straight. I'm not in too much pain, unless I overdo the physical activity in a day, but it is just kind of awkward and uncomfortable.
OMFG 26 WEEKS AAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHH
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