Letter from your Ma: 32-33 weeks

How far along?  33 weeks.  Again, I flaked on a weekly update, so this post will cover the last 14 days.
Weight Gain?  By now you weigh a little over 4 pounds and have passed the 17-inch mark. You’re losing that wrinkled, alien look (which was so last season anyway) and your skeleton is hardening.
Symptoms?  I am tired.  Damn tired.  And ashamed to admit that my exercise routine has shriveled to just about nothing.  After work, I lay around like a giant bloated slug, watching TV, reading and doing my best to find the end of the internet.  Meanwhile, several friends former friends of mine forwarded me the news story of a woman who ran/walked the Chicago marathon on Sunday at 39 weeks pregnant.  She crossed the finish line, grabbed a sandwich, headed to the hospital and gave birth.  My favorite part is that every story mentions her getting a sandwich.  I can relate to the sandwich part.
Sleep?  What can I say.  It’s nearly impossible and my favorite thing to do.  (sob)
Foods I am loving?  Pumpkin lattes, pumpkin bagels, pumpkin pie, pumpkin beer.  Hooray Autumn!
Best moment this week?  Mike, Meg and Kate’s Fun Fall Day, which consisted of spiked apple cider, a 2-person chili cook-off, pumpkin pie, pumpkin bread, pumpkin cupcakes, a stupid jigsaw puzzle we still haven’t finished and more apple cider.  Also this week, I summoned just enough strength to pull my credit card out of my wallet to reserve 2 nights at a resort in Breckenridge.  Your dad and I originally had big plans for a baby-moon that would take place more than 70 miles away from Denver, but at this point I really just want to relax, take some nice hikes, swim in a heated pool and sleep.  
Movement?  You still excel at the 1-2 punch-kick combo, but are also mixing in some slower movements, kind of like stretching.  I think you may be running out of room in there.  It’s only going to get worse, so feel free to arrive a couple weeks early if you like…
What I miss?    Remembering a time when I wasn’t pregnant.
What we’ve been up to:    So, little girl, we had a very exciting doctor’s appointment, you and I.  Every two weeks, I drive to Rose Medical Center to meet with Dr. Honey Onstad.  That’s right – you’ll be making the journey from my belly to the outside world assisted by a highly skilled medical professional named Honey.   At each appointment, Dr. Honey checks your growth with this new-fangled technology called a “tape measure” and then listens to your heartbeat.  The heartbeat is my favorite part.  Last Thursday, your rhythm dropped suddenly during the 30 seconds of monitoring.  I ask, “Did that just slow down?”  and three minutes later am in a tiny room with a heart monitor strapped around my belly, being instructed to press a button each time I feel you move.  As the strapping-in nurse exits, I blurt out a question about the worst case scenario.  She pauses, looks me in the eye and says,  “Worst-case scenario we’d need to induce.  Oh and by the way, count movements, but not hiccups.”   Then I’m alone.  Hiccups are sometimes difficult to distinguish from regular kicks and punches.  Not 2 seconds after the door closes, you start hiccuping.  After twenty six hours twenty minutes of me sweating, second-guessing movements, texting your father to get the car seat ready and oh yeah, um, maybe like bring a onesie or something, Dr. Honey returns, looks at the readout from the monitor, compares it to the movement log and chirps, “Ok, looks like everything is fine!  See you in two weeks.”  I have never been more relieved or felt such a desire to strangle a doctor.
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About gowestyoungfam

We just moved to Denver from Chicago and are excited about sharing the details of our new adventures!
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