16 weeks

I honestly wasn't planning on documenting very much of this pregnancy, but this week I've been thinking about how much I don't know about my mother's and grandmother's pregnancies, and what if my kid wants to know what I was feeling? And while what I'm feeling isn't always flattering to the kid, and I can't whitewash it, it still might be a good idea to check in once in a while. And nobody reads this anyway, so it's mostly between me and the kid.

Time elapsed: 16 weeks, 4 days, according to my Ovia app. Depending on who you ask, fetus is the size of a dill pickle, avocado, action figure, or Philippine tarsier.

Sex: Dunno yet. We find out on 10/8, assuming the baby cooperates. We're doing the anatomy scan at the perinatal unit, aka. High Risk City, so it should in theory be pretty detailed. 

Feeling: Better than I expected, in some ways. The whole first trimester, I had almost no Crohn's symptoms, which was pretty damned fantastic, but they're starting to return a bit now, which is disappointing. I don't even get nine months off to make up for the misery that's sure to come? What I did manage to avoid was any and all nausea, minus one evening after far too much delicious ramen bar dinner. Yes, I realize how lucky I am on that front. Sleeping on my side sucks, and is painful, and I've given up on sleeping through the night, and my sciatica is a constant presence. but as I tell people, I've been bloated, achy, and exhausted for 18 years - there's nothing different about now.  

I also may or may not have felt kiddo move last night. I can't tell.

Cravings and Aversions: Give me all the fruits, please. The other night Mr. PW made me a smoothie and I'm pretty sure I might have died of happiness. Frosted Flakes are also my jam. This doesn't bode well for the glucose test. On the other hand, get spicy things the f away from me. 

I miss cocktails! Summer is cocktail sipping season and mocktails are no substitute. I have been having a sample sip of Mr. PW's beers here and there. I'm skeptical of the AVOID EVERYTHING stance. Our grandmothers smoked and drank and ate lunchmeat and underdone steaks all through their pregnancies and miraculously everything turned out fine. Although we did get the Baby Boomers out of that...

Fears and Worries: I have to admit I'm disappointed in the experience so far. I know that's pretty verboten for expectant mothers to say. There's a lot that I'm already having to give up - like it's been pretty much decided that I'm having a scheduled c-section, thanks to the internal scarring and damage I have from past surgeries. And after the birth, I'll most likely be put on a cocktail of medications to try to prevent a massive Crohn's flare. While I understand the long-term need for it, I'm disappointed that even the possibility of a normal birth and recovery is going to be taken away from me. There's so little to excite me about this already, and the tiny things I had to look forward to are being taken from me too. On the other hand, I'm more used to major abdominal surgery than other women, so maybe it'll be less of a big deal?

And, vainly, the scars cris-crossing my belly are preventing a cute little round belly. The one time in my life that I'm allowed to be all rotund and cute, and I just look fat and lumpy.

Is there anything fun about this at all?: There have been fun things. Anticipation of anything is fun. Gathering little baby clothes has been hella fun. Seeing how excited the grandparents are and our friends are has been so fun. And I can't pretend like putting together our registry and deciding on a nursery scheme hasn't been very fun too. And yo, I'm wearing jeans with no waistband right now. Someone tell me why I wouldn't wear maternity pants for the rest of my natural life?

What else is going on in our life: Mr. PW have apparently decided to Buy All The Things before our income is eaten up by day care, so we've gotten a new recliner, a new kitchen table (Room and Board scratch and dent for the win) and we're looking for a new camera and new bedside stands. We also need new phones, a new desktop computer, a new front door, a new light fixture for the hall, repair work on a wall in the kitchen, a new door leading to the garage, shelving over the washer and dryer, and about 800 other little things that will probably not happen for years.

Mr. PW's sister is throwing us a shower, which is very sweet, but I only agreed to it because it will also be a sip n' see for Mr. PW's brother's new baby, and is going to take place roughly ten days before Sister PW's own due date. Yep, for a time, I, Sister PW, and Sis in Law PW were all concurrently pregnant. Insert Catholic jokes here. I haaaaaate showers, but I don't think I can get out of this one. I think it's mostly for MR. PW's aunt, who is unreasonably excited that he's going to be a father, and has already dubbed herself Grauntie. I'm hoping there will be enough happening to take a lot of the attention away from me.

Around all of this is the start of a new school year, which means 18 hour work days and total chaos for the both of us.

Could you maybe not complain for a little while?   I know, I'm sorry. I hate when other people complain non-stop. I'm aware of the luck I have in my life - Mr. PW and I both have stable, supportive jobs, and I'm not on my feet all day for mine. We'll be able to survive on just his income while I'm off recovering. Our families are supportive and excited. I'm not bedridden or puking every ten minutes or swollen beyond recognition. Mr. PW is over the moon for our impending astronaut. This will be good.

Bonus photo:

Me at 12 months. Was I cute or WHAT?

Me at 12 months. Was I cute or WHAT?