Hellooooo 3rd Trimester!

I apologize for the fact that this blog has been somewhat neglected by anything non-pregnancy related, but once you hit the 3rd trimester (or rather it hits you), pregnancy kinda takes over.  First, I feel so blessed that we have made it this far in the pregnancy.  I seriously thank God each day that our little baby boy is still hanging in the womb and growing.  We still have a ways to go, but we're getting closer by the second.  

There are a few pregnancy-ish things/conversations I want to remember that have happened lately.

We spent the last week at Ocean Isle Beach in NC with Caleb's extended family.  It was nice to have a relaxing week at the beach without a schedule.  It was a little warm, ok it was HOT, but thank goodness for a pool and a giant ocean to jump in when I started getting over heated.  I will try to post some pics from our week soon. 

Being 5'2'' and 28 weeks pregnant isn't always pretty, especially when you are growing a big ole baby boy.  My suspicious were confirmed with an ultrasound yesterday revealing he is in greater than the 95 percentile for a baby his age.  He is measuring 2.5 weeks ahead of schedule.  That measurement made me feel a little bit better about a few comments I've gotten lately.

I've been asked if I was still able to drive.  As in, can my belly still fit behind the steering wheel?  The answer:  Yes.  Although I wouldn't mind being driven around everywhere.  

At a boutique in Ocean Isle, a lady working in the baby department asked me when I was due.  I just replied with "August."  Her face said it all, but then she allowed her mouth to open, too.  "Wow, you must be having a BIG baby.  You're not gonna make it to August."  Let me just say:  that is NOT what a hot, hormonal, pregnant girl wants to hear.  There is nothing nice about that comment.  In fact, it is code for "Wow, you're fat."  Have a filter, people.

At 2 AM one night this week after neither Caleb nor I have slept a wink despite trying to, I finally sit up in bed, tell him I'm going to vomit, and I'd like some ice cream.  Apparently, it was all in one breath.  Keep in mind all I had for dinner was 1 square inch of pizza and a few bites of fruit.  

I will NEVER eat pizza again while pregnant.  NEVER.

Being the awesome supportive husband he is, he came back into our bedroom with a trash can prepared for vomit and a bowl of lowfat strawberry ice cream.  "Which do you want first, to vomit, or to eat the ice cream?"  It was a somewhat bizarre question at 2 AM, but it makes perfect sense when battling severe heartburn and no sleep.  There's a gigantic baby growing in my midget torso, therefore giving me NO space for food.

I realize all of these details are completely random, and I apologize.  That's just how my brain is working these days.  Lake and beach pictures coming soon : )