Another week has come and gone and I’ve gotten my belly rubbed a few times like I’m a genie lamp more than I would like. It’s hard to believe that I am nearly to the halfway mark!
This past week I definitely began to feel some movement. As in, during Game 7 of the World Series when I went through all 7 stages of grief, I counted not 1…but 27 kicks in a row. Obviously, this child is already a Cleveland fan and is sharing in Mommy’s utter sadness and woe.
My belly continues to grow by leaps and bounds, making me feel like I’m 6 months pregnant when I haven’t even made it to the 5 month mark. Woe are my abdominal muscles as well, apparently. I’ve been in denial of the scale this go round, but I was pleasantly surprised at my 18 week appointment that I had only gained 9 pounds so far. I was positive it was going to be more, as I’ve been eating my feelings, lounging like a sloth most days, and staying far less active than I was with James. I guess that’s why they say all pregnancies are not created alike, and this one has got me pooped out most of the time.
Next week is an important one, it’s ultrasound time and we finally get to see what Baby Mason Dos looks like! Belly out!