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 : )