Tomorrow I am 25 weeks pregnant. 15 weeks to go. It seems impossible- didn't I just get knocked up, like, what, two weeks ago?
It has been a good couple of weeks since my last update, mostly marked by intensive growth by the baby. He is... enormous. Really. My stomach is huge (think good-sized seedless watermelon shoved up my shirt) and I honestly am not sure where three and a half more months of growth is going to go. Someone last weekend asked me, "Oh, you must be due soon!" and I said, "Well, not really... I have three months left..." but I am not getting too worked up because 1) people are notoriously bad at judging how pregnant other women are and 2) this woman is literally blind in one eye. Really.
His kicking and movement have progressed from gentle flutters to a slightly more insistent poking feeling, like you're trying to get a friends' attention. He is about as active as I remember Michaela being, which was pretty active, but not overly so. I think of every movement as a little postcard sent from him to me, saying, Hey! It's all good in here! I am feeling very good, eating well, drinking copious amounts of water every day, and my intense hunger has somewhat abated... I can now go three or - goodness help me- even FOUR hours without eating.
I have a little insomnia action going on pretty much every night, finding the hours of 3-5 am just uncomfortable enough to wake me up and cause me to lose myself in bad, bad early-morning programming on television. The uncomfortableness comes in my hips, which I haven't experienced with either girl: I feel a numbness and tingly sensation from my hip down my leg after I've been sleeping on that particular side, and it also feels as though I've been clenching my leg muscles as I've slept. So I tried going to the chiropractor in case there was something that could be done adjustment-wise. I also thought that getting a massage may help my leg and back muscles a bit with the pregnancy, as well as being a nice treat for Mommy.
And the story of my massage is quite something.
So I go to a male massage therapist who is affiliated with my chiropractor and comes highly recommended. We start with the general getting-to-know-you stuff, what brings you here? how is your general health? are you feeling comfortable enough now that I'm an okay guy that you can take all your clothes off for me and I can rub you all over? ...you know, that kind of stuff. He was friendly and outgoing and not gay (not that it matters, of course, just as a point of interest) and seemed pretty non-smarmy. So I got myself situated on the table and right before he starts in, he announces that he's "more of a technical massage therapist, but will do a little relaxation stuff at the end." And that's when I should have known what I was in for.
For the next two hours this man pummeled me, kneaded my leg muscles, stretched muscles in my back, shoulders and pectorals that I honestly didn't know I had, and I was screaming (like a "Ahhhh-ahhhh-owwww!" type of screaming) and laughing at the ridiculousness that I was PAYING HIM TO DO THIS TO ME. But he found spots that were tight in my back that he said were corresponding to my leg pain and explained to me everything he was doing and why. The best part was when he found some joint in my lower back, hooked his fingers into my vertebrae, and then had me push backwards as he was pulling towards me. Yeah. That was fun.
But... when I got up, got dressed, pulled myself back together, and walked out, I swear I felt better than I have in weeks. I didn't even feel pregnant. Gone was the waddle, the tightness, the straining, the unbalanced feeling of leaning backwards. I was just walking. Like a normal person. Loosely. And I was sold on this guy. So I am going back in my third trimester to get everything limber for labor and delivery.
We are no closer in the name department. We still have a core list of three or four solid, non-flashy boy names we like and can't seem to come to any other consensus for any others. We each have three or four other names we each personally love but the other person hates. Mr. Only Names From The Bible is having trouble embracing anything fresher or younger than 4000 years old. But we are getting lots of fun input; among the suggestions we've received (hopefully in jest): Sergio, Luciano (Lucky Libutti for short), Mortimer, and any first name from the '86 Mets, including Dwight, Darryl, or Mookie. None of those are on the short list.
Dan and I went to Manchester, VT for a date afternoon on Sunday and hit the carter's outlet and hit it HARD. We walked out with two big bags of beautiful, practical, and soft, soft, soft sleepers, towels, outfits, and onesies. One of the shirts says "Big Guy" on it and another onesie says "Mommy's new little man" on the front. I lap that stuff up like a little puppy. I feel much more prepared now for the first few weeks and am glad that Dan and I were able to pick out some cute clothing together. We also went to the Polo outlet and bought a light blue button down shirt, a navy blue vest and an orange and blue golf shirt, all in 2T /3T sizes. Too fun. I am leaving the tags on everything just in case the ultrasound was wrong and we can re-use all our gorgeous girl clothes instead of this new blue and brown collection.
All of my organizing projects are coming along nicely, well-coordinated with all the nesting hormones. The Container Store is now sending me personalized, chatty emails since we're such good friends now. But I tell you, every article of clothing or soft textile or child's toy in my home will eventually be encased in clear, organized plastic by the time I deliver this baby. I am planning on making the big move for Jenna into Michaela's room sometime in mid/late July and painting and setting up the boy nursery soon after that. It is a delicate balance of doing things before the baby comes so you are prepared, but not so early that everyone thinks you're an overeager dork.
So life is good here. I am starting to feel a little more slowed down, like I can't accomplish all I used to without taking a cat nap in the afternoon or getting a little short of breath. I have to pace myself, especially doing errands (the grocery shopping just kills me) or when I am working on the many projects I have simmering all over the house. Of course, June is a crazy, crazy month when you have children anyway: lots of end of the year wrap-ups and special parties and excited kids. I am also wrapping up a huge volunteering commitment at church- we are re-organizing the church governance structure and changing the constitution- that has lasted the last 18 months and is being voted on by the congregation this Sunday. So all of this is happening at once: endings, celebrations, and a fresh beginning of a quiet, restful, lazy summer.
I can't wait.