Tuesday, April 29, 2014

Oh dear

So I have 11 (or less!) weeks until this bouncing baby boy arrives.

My face is mostly back to normal.  I haven't thrown up in 11 days.  Still sleeping like a log (wtf does that even mean?).

No Braxton-Hicks, just some round ligament pain.  He likes to burrow under my ribs and run his hand (foot?) down them like a xylophone.  He currently prefers to be waaaaay over on the right side, as evidenced by the doctor's difficulty in finding his heartbeat yesterday.  And while he's measuring perfectly, I have gained 9 pounds in a month.

NINE POUNDS.

Granted I'd really only gained about 4 pounds since getting pregnant.  I'd lost about 15 pounds from running and then I stopped running in August or so and gained it back.  So I'm not technically counting those pounds because I would've gained them anyway since I started working again and quit taking the MS drug that gave me the energy to actually run. 

Yes, I am rationalizing but you have to admit that I'm being rational.

AND I'm still wearing my regular pants.  And most of them fasten without a rubber band. 

I'm just really confused by these 9 pounds.  And my doctor told me to buy a scale. :(  I feel legitimately fat-shamed.

I'm gonna say that 9 pounds is boobs.  Cause talk about obscene...

My rings still fit and my belly button hasn't popped.  No stretch marks.  I am anemic (ooops), but I passed my glucose tolerance test.  It was kind of brutal.

I'm constantly out of breath.  Walking from the car to my desk finds me huffing and puffing.  I go walking when I'm not too queasy and I get so winded I can't talk.  It's a constant annoyance!

He's kicking the desk as I type this.  I've angered it.