Our little Man Cub continues to grow, this week hitting another milestone--he has gained so much weight that he now weighs in at one whole pound. His mother, on the other hand, has definitely put on more than one pound. I don't have the next official weigh-in until a week from today, but I am sure I've put on at least five pounds since the last doctor visit. No exaggerating--the doc said from now until D-Day I would be looking at a pound a week, resulting in a total of 30-35 pounds. That seems like A LOT of weight to me, especially since I already feel gigantic at a third of that. I know I am not really gigantic (yet) but the belly is a reality I definitely notice when trying to do things like squeeze between the grocery cart and the check out conveyor belt when loading my groceries, when slipping into a booth at Applebees and finding the room between me and the table to be minuscule, or when trying to crawl under the bed to plug in my alarm clock. It makes me glad that I will be at my biggest during flip-flop season, because eventually, I don't think I'll be able to reach my own feet to tie my shoes.
I have to admit--I like being bigger as opposed to "plump-ishly pregnant". There's no mistaking I've got a baby cooking, and I actually feel more confident the bigger I get. Like most women, I have always been self-conscious about parts of my body--but pregnancy has rounded out those parts. I hate to admit it, but the doctors that have always told me I would carry pregnancy well are correct (at least up to this point. We'll see how good I feel 25 pounds from now).
In addition to being a heavyweight, our little guy is now the size of a papaya and has developed taste buds. He is swallowing amniotic fluid, which apparently tastes like whatever I have been eating. While this has made me slightly more attentive to what I put in my mouth, lets just say that baby will be well adjusted to the taste of cadbury mini eggs and ruffles potato chips. He can also hear and distinguish noises. He is able to tell my voice apart from his Daddy's voice, and the book says if I sit in a quiet room and there is suddenly a loud noise, baby will jump. This, like the flashlight idea, sounds a little mean to me and I have not tested the theory yet.
He already has his own schedule and sleeps somewhere between 12-14 hours a day (it would be fine with me if he wanted to keep that up when he arrives, but I am finding that highly unlikely). I feel him move around at the same times every day--early in the morning and late at night, and usually mid afternoon, with a jab here and there in the evening.
One more week and I'll be in my sixth month (!!!). My mom, mother-in-law and sister-in-law are starting to plan a baby shower, my husband and I are starting to register for the endless amount of baby supplies, and soon we'll be organizing the nursery. Nine months seemed like a really long time back in November...
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