Well, steeglette of ours, after today’s appt, we now know you’ve started the long and lovely journey down the chute (momma’s beginning to ripen and dilated at 1). I was quite confident this was approaching, since every time I sneeze, it feels like you’re going to come flopping out like a greased guppy, which in itself would be a momentous occasion. This fear of your floppage also has initiated “the waddle”. This, my sweet one is the humble walk of a woman who is in the family way and afraid to pee in public. It’s sexy, I know.
In other news, your daddy-O slept on the couch last night due to my “heavy breathing”/code word for angel breath, I’m sure.
Oh, and we found out you’re approximately 7lbs 3oz today; although the accuracy can go at least a pound IN EITHER DIRECTION – child, if you come out the size of a teenager, I’m returning your for a new bike. And I don’t even like bikes.
- Baking time: 35wks
- cravings: nada. I still crave fruit…but there currently isn’t anything that would make me do a cartwheel in a tutu and flip flops in the sand. And I’m completely ok with that.
- aversions: anything that can or may induce heartburn. They say that momma’s w/ heartburn have kids w/ lots of hair. Sorry to say, steeglette, you’re a gorilla.
- added inches to the precious waistline: we’re still hovering around 14.5”, but we’ve begun the droppage, hence the looks of pity and hilarious comments about “popping”…which honestly do make me laugh – my active imagination goes places with the idea that I could deflate with the press of my now outie belly button.
- Lessons learned: “There are few greater miraculous moments than the first time you see that baby”…courtesy of our gas station attendant.