As I mentioned previously this has been a fabulous week for my little family. And it just keeps getting better. We made a financial decision that is allowing us to pay off my car and a few of our credit cards, so that our monthly situation will be even better. There is a light at the end of this tunnel, and I don’t think it’s a train. In celebration we are both getting desperately needed new clothes (my maternity belly (and maternity ass for that matter) need more things big enough to fit over them and my husband has been wearing jeans with a giant hole in the crotch for a couple of months now) and going to Red Robin for dinner. Yes. Red Robin. Mama NEEDS a cheeseburger. And those fries? Yum – diddly. Which segues nicely into this week:
Obviously I am craving cheeseburgers. If one buys into the theory that our bodies crave what we need then it is completely obvious that I am in desperate need of some iron and/or protein. If one doesn’t buy into that theory then it is completely obvious that I am a hungry pregnant woman who wants a damn cheeseburger. I woke up this morning thinking (in a cookie monster voice) CHEESEBURGER! OM NOM NOM. Earlier in the week I was craving Cafe Rio, but it was before the windfall/new job announcement so we didn’t go. The desperate need for a burger has now eclipsed the enchilada-style burrito desire, but I have a feeling a visit there is also in my near future.
Baby is the size of a pomegranate this week (is a pomegranate actually bigger than a mango and a cantaloupe? I could have sworn it was smaller. These comparisons seem pretty arbitrary, but oh well – they’re kinda fun.) and kicking like a maniac. On Easter she punched me so hard I was able to feel it from the outside. I grabbed my husband’s hand and put it in the same place and 30 seconds later he got to feel his first kick. Which was awesome for him. Men get kind of ripped off in the whole pregnancy department (although, not having to push a watermelon out a hoo-haw is a pretty good trade) because they can’t really experience anything until the baby actually comes. Jason loves going to ultrasounds with me because he gets to see evidence that there’s a person in mah belly. And now he can fondle my belly and feel the baby beating me up – awesome.
According to Tuesday’s ultrasound the little one now weighs a little over a pound and all of her parts are measuring just as they should be for her gestational age, great news. At the 17 week ultrasound the tech mentioned something about her being a little bit bigger than average and I, of course, flipped out and began worrying that I have gestational diabetes and am going to have a gigantic baby, so I was relieved to hear that she’s measuring as she should be.
Lastly, fun pregnancy symptoms: More spider veins (UGH), more water retention (my fingers feel like sausages despite the fact that I guzzle nearly a gallon of water a day, and I think my feet are getting bigger and flatter), and lots of hip pain during the night. I’m no stranger to back/hip pain, as I’ve had it chronically for years now, but as I get bigger it’s getting worse. I wake up frequently in the night and have to flip over, which is no easy feat considering how big and awkward I am. I can only assume it’s going to get worse. Oh well. I’m super excited about the baby, and I’m actually enjoying being pregnant now. The first trimester was awful, and then we had the bits of bad news etc, but the past couple of weeks I’ve felt fabulous (okay, aside from that whole viral thing from last week) and have been loving feeling little baby kicks. I’ve heard the third trimester is a bitch, so I guess I should enjoy this while I can.