Week 18

Aaaaand I’m back to being nearly a week behind.  Whatever, deal with it just like I have to deal with the fact that I’m in constant search for the bathroom….

Our baby is 18 weeks old (give or take Bad Mommy’s lack of counting exactly), the size of the baked potato that I’m about to inhale for lunch, and can hear what I’m saying now.  “You stop kicking and let Mommy eat or so help me God I’m coming in there!”  While we’re on the topic of movement, let’s discuss how adorably annoying this is.  They are getting less “I think the baby just moved” and more “I was totally just kicked or punched” and “Awww, baby is rolling over!”  It’s a crazy sense of relief when the baby is moving and fist-pumping his way to freedom because it reminds me that the little munchkin is still there and breathing amniotic fluid like a champ.  While we were laying down watching TV the other night, the baby started to move and I told Angel to put his hand on my belly and see if he can feel it (I’ve felt it outside myself only twice).  I asked him a few times “did you feel that?!” but alass, he hadn’t.  I thought he started pushing on my tummy to see if it would help but instead he was like “I felt that one!!” with a big, adorable smile on his face.  So apparently he wasn’t pushing, the baby was just coming to saying “hi” to Daddy.

I’m also hungry.  But not until I start to eat.  It’s weird.  I’m not hungry at all, I get food in front of my face, and all of a sudden you don’t want to be the thing standing between a starving pregnant lady and her lunch (or you will be destroyed).

The pregnancy pillow is still the greatest thing EVER.  While very comfortable, trying to roll over with this sucker is a giant exercise in AWKWARD.  Molly has also decided that she likes it as well because now she can sleep up against it and not get kicked or rolled over onto in the middle of the night.  She has no enjoyment of risky sleeping, apparently.

We find out on Tuesday if I’m busy baking a boy or a girl.  Angel and I have always been in agreement on the “find out the sex” front because truth be told, we’re either surprised at 19 weeks, or at 40.  I am still convinced that it’s going to be a boy, but more and more of a feeling now that I’m in for a huge surprise come Tuesday.  Or maybe this baby will be modest and we won’t have a choice but to wait until 40 weeks?  There’s no real wrong answer here, provided that everything is healthy and fine and this little boy or girl stays put until he or she is fully cooked, amen.

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