Well, it’s official: I’m in the THIRD TRIMESTER! Hollaaaaa.
Man, this one is seriously flying by. Doesn’t it feel like I just announced it? I feel like I always compare my two pregnancies, but I can’t help it because they’ve just been so completely different!
My hair seems to be in a little better shape this time, but my skin is worse. The weight gain is a little on the lower side with this baby, but maybe that’s because I’m not craving FREAKING CAKE FROSTING OUT OF THE JAR like I was last time. (I’m not exaggerating.)
And the body differences… oooooh, the body differences. My hips and butt aren’t widening as much as they were with Maddie, but each of my boobs have pretty much exploded to the size of my head. And I have a big head, let me tell you. In high school, some teacher brought in a tape measure so we could measure our heads for graduation caps. Well I had to keep my little paper hidden until it was time to turn them in because my measurement was like an inch larger than all the boys’. Even a kid named Odias had a smaller head than me. Doesn’t Odias seem like a macho, big headed-person’s name? That’s what I thought too. Morgan is apparently more macho.
(Is this painting you a nice enough picture yet? My boobs are huge.)
One day when I know for sure there are no males around here listening, I’ll tell you about nips. That’s where all this stuff stops being funny and starts getting REAL.
Oooh okay, NOW I remember. This is the magical turning point in the pregnancy. The time where I’m juuuuust starting to feel normal and somewhat cute then my tiny little belly says, PSYCHE! and blows up to beast-status, the chipmunk cheeks make their grand return and I just look haggard no matter how much highlight powder I pile on my face.
Oh, pregnancy. You whore.
Despite the fact that my thighs are taking over the planet, I feel remarkably well! The baby is supposed to be somewhere around 2lbs right now, and I definitely believe it by how well I can feel his kicks and wiggles in there. Justin’s probably sick of me by now because I’m constantly bugging him to FEEL MY BELLEH! It’s just so crazy to think there’s a tiny person in there… I don’t think it’ll ever get old.
Okay, now I have kind of a sick question for you. I just had my monthly Chipotle lunch date with my friend Kristy who is due a few weeks before me. As usual we discussed our crazy symptoms, cravings and all the other gross stuff that we’re going through (it keeps us sane). Out of nowhere, I remembered something that happened at one of my very last checkups while pregnant with Maddie. It must have been just so traumatic that I blocked it from my memory, but I seriously can’t remember WHY it had to be done. So riddle me this… What exactly is the purpose of the butt swab at 36 weeks?
I’ve been trying to think of something… ANYTHING… to put in this update and for once in my life I actually have nothing to say. Things are swell. The baby’s still kicking. I make love to nachos every night.
Nothing new. :)
I do plan on sharing some ideas for the kids’ shared room sometime in the next few weeks though! It’s going to be cute.
Jack is moving around a LOT. His little kicks can be seen and felt from the outside, which is cool, yet totally creepy/Alien-like. You can usually find me lifting up my shirt and staring at my stomach at inappropriate times. Like while driving. (Red lights, my dears. Red lights.)
My belly button is, how do you say? OMGDISGUSTO. It’s shallow and it weirds me out being able to see the back of it so clearly! AH.
I was talking to a friend and she said that someone else we both know was acting concerned. He finally asked her, “Is Morgan, umm… you know… ” and she said, “Pregnant? Uh, yessss.”
It keeps happening!! RAWR. MORGAN SMASH. I don’t know, maybe it’s because I feel like a freaking monstrosity in all my bloatedness and that it’s totally obvious that I’m not just gaining weight, but knowing that some people aren’t sure and are hesitant to even SAY the word pregnant in reference to my belly is just plain worrisome! Should I make a sign to wear? Something along the lines of, “I had sex.“?
Yes, I know. Pregnant girls… we are never happy. I’m too big, I’m too small. THERE IS NO PLEASING ME. Except if you give me nachos. You can tell me I look like Sasquatch and I probably won’t even hear you over the sound of my own crunching.
(No, I’m serious. Ask Justin. I eat nachos nearly every night AFTER dinner. It’s concerning even to ME.)
I went to Ikea with my Mom and Maddie, redecorated the living room, have been working on about a bagillion pinwheels in preparation for my friend’s baby shower this Saturday, and have been spending all the hours in between either working, making 8 thousand lists of things I need to do/buy/clean, or making crazy stressed out faces like this:
(I’m in a random Britney reference phase right now. Just go with it.)
In pregnancy news, I’m blah blah blah getting fatter blah. Remember when I was all, “Bring on the weight gain, baby! I’m not afraid of you!”?? Yeah, that was silly. I think the weight gain fairy has been paying me nightly visits, and instead of money under my pillow she’s leaving badonk. I swear, I wake up each morning and my butt is bigger than the day before. YIPPEE.
I’ll be back next week with some baby shower photos, a chipper attitude and some maternity spanx, cuz I be classy like that.