Bumpdate: 30 Weeks

How far along? 30 weeks.
How big is baby? About 3 pounds, and the size of a cantaloupe. If cantaloupes had legs and one heck of a roundhouse kick, anyway.
Stretch marks? No, but I do have some varicose veins creeping down the back of my right leg. EVEN BETTER.
Sleep? Not too shabby, except I need a lot of it these days. If I don’t take a 20-minute power nap when Natalie takes HER nap, by the time she wakes up I feel practically comatose.
Best moment this week? Demonstrating burpees for my 2-person workout group and realizing that I can still do them. Not very quickly and not more than a few, but I can totally do it. Rawr.
Miss anything? Putting on socks and shoes like a normal person. When the bump gets to be this size, there’s really no good way to do it.
Movement? Oh, sure, only ALL THE TIME and in the most jabby and uncomfortable of ways.
Food cravings? The pendulum is starting to swing back towards healthier cravings, like a big bowl of scrambled eggs and broccoli and mushrooms for breakfast. Mmm. I still eat my fair share of cookies but overall I’m craving healthier options (which is nice because I definitely feel better and have more energy when I eat that way.)
Anything making you queasy or sick? Sitting in a chair or in the car — I think this is one thing I’m going to have to tough out til the end. And wearing pants or shorts with a maternity panel. Maxi skirts foreverrrrr!! Also, standing still, like in line at the grocery store. So I basically have to be lying down/sitting with my feet up, or be in motion. Good thing Natalie keeps me on my feet all day.
Gender? Girl.
Belly Button in or out? Out.
Wedding rings on or off? On.
Happy or moody most of the time? Pretty happy. Life is good.
Looking forward to? Getting the results of my glucose test back. They drew my blood a week and a half ago, so I’m assuming if I had gestational diabetes, they would’ve called instead of waiting for my next appointment. I’m not concerned about whether or not I have it; I’d just like to know either way. 


75% done with this pregnancy! Which is good, because people are starting to look surprised when they find out I still have 10 weeks to go. I figure I’m about a week away from asinine comments like, “Is it twins? Are you SURE?” or, “Wow, you look like you’re ready to POP!” I got both of those with Natalie and it’s incredibly obnoxious. 

Let me be clear: just because I happen to be pregnant and also be in public does not give anyone the right to comment on my body. I do not care how well-intentioned people are, I do not care that you have a sister/daughter/friend/coworker’s brother-in-law’s dog sitter who is also pregnant (there’s more than one pregnant person on this earth at a time? WHAT ARE THE ODDS)…keep your comments to yourself. Even if you think you’re being nice. 

This was a pet peeve of mine the first time around and it’s obviously flaring up again. I’m continually baffled as to why being pregnant suddenly invites people to be all up in your business, commenting on your size and asking about your weight gain and refusing to let you carry 10 pounds of cat food to the car by yourself. 

True story, by the way. The woman claimed I was “doing her a favor” because she just loves to go outside. Ok…so if it had been Will, she would’ve physically taken the bags from his hands and refused to let him carry them himself? Because that’s what she did. Even after I said three times, “Thank you, I appreciate the offer, but I’m all set.”

I HAAAAATE THAT with the fire of a thousand suns. I’m pregnant. Not broken. Not weak or feeble or unable to do things for myself. So please, please, please, if you’re ever tempted to do this…don’t. ASK the person in question if they would like some help, and for the love of god, if they say that they’re all set — BELIEVE THEM. There’s absolutely nothing wrong with offering, but to override their “no thank you” with whatever you think they should do (or not do, as the case may be) is really, really not cool. 

Ok, there’s your PSA for the day about successfully interacting with pregnant women. Good luck!

In other news, I finally secured an appointment at the birth center. Overall it went well. They have four midwives on staff that attend births, and you rotate through them with every appointment so that by the time you’re in labor, you should at least have met the person who will be catching your baby. I liked the midwife that I met with last week, and hopefully I like the one I’m seeing this week. I won’t say that I don’t have any other options if I don’t like the other midwives, because you always have options when it comes to the birth of your baby, but this is the only free-standing birth center that’s staffed by midwives in, well, I’m not even sure. Much much further than we are willing to drive. So it’s this or a much more hospital-like setting, or a straight-up hospital, and that’s definitely not my first choice. So, we’ll see how it goes.

Side note, if any fellow crunchy mamas are reading this and thinking, “You’re in Tennessee! Can you go to The Farm? OMG IS INA MAY GASKIN GOING TO DELIVER YOUR BABY?!?!” Sadly, no. They’re 3.5 hours away from us. Yes, I googled it as soon as I knew I’d be having this baby in TN. :)

I miss my midwife in Boston terribly. I miss their birth center and pretty much everything about it. I know I’m holding this birth center to an impossibly high standard, so I’m trying to stay focused on the positive aspects of it (of which there are many! Truly!) I think it helps being a second-time mom and knowing that whether the birth goes as smoothly as Natalie’s did, or if there are complications that lead to being transferred to the hospital, having a C-section, or anything else, we’ll still be walking out of there with a beautiful baby girl in our arms. I’m NOT saying the birth experience doesn’t matter, because I think how a woman feels about her birth experience is very important. But I do have a more relaxed perspective now from spending the last 1.75 years with Natalie and realizing that it just keeps getting better, no matter where you start from.

And I can’t wait.

 

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