Well, thanks to the wildly unpredictable bursts of second trimester energy I occasionally experience (one hour of wide-awake productivity at 9am, followed by 6 hours of zombie-like exhaustion during which I have to give myself a pep talk to complete a thought/sentence/click of the mouse), there is a half-finished blog entry sitting in my drafts folder, just waiting to be completed. Me? I’m just over here, fantasizing about that donut I had in yesterday’s meeting.
I wanna…lick-lick-lick-lick you from your head to your toes…
But I wanted to post a quick update about my third (THIRD? That’s it? Shouldn’t this kid be applying for college already?) prenatal appointment this morning:
- Weeks pregnant: A shade over 16
- Pounds gained so far: 11
- Percentage of me that felt offended when the midwife looked at my weight gain and said, “Oh, would you look at that!”: 99
- Minutes it took her to convince me that the weight gain was totally on track and normal: 20
- Orders of pan-fried noodles with vegetables and tofu I will be consuming at lunch to celebrate totally healthy, on-track weight gain: 1
- Strong, healthy heartbeats heard on Doppler: 1
- Thrilled and relieved (and neurotic) parents-to-be: 2
- Weeks until BIG-ASS SUPER IMPORTANT ULTRASOUND: 2
So, them’s the haps. I still can’t really believe there is something alive (AND WITH ITS OWN GENITALS) inside of my body right now, but apparently we’re just that motherfucking lucky. I’m still not detecting any movement – although Spats led the Doppler on a wild goose chase throughout my uterus in the style of those dang Duke boys. But I started rehearsals for my last and final pre-baby show this week (14-hour days without caffeine: WELCOME TO HELL), and I can’t feel much of anything besides the last of my sanity slipping out my ears.
Interestingly enough, I am not the only pregnant woman in the cast. It’s nice to know I have company in embarrassing the shit out of my offspring before it even enters the world.
Entry filed under: And you KNOW THIS!.