Week 30

Hooo boy! Is it that time already? I'm now 30 weeks along (or in my 31st week as Scott felt compelled to point out...thanks for that, Scott).
30 weeks.
30.
The big three-oh-my-friggin-gawd-why-the-hell-did-I-sign-onto-this-for-and-how-do-I-get-off-this-train week?
Yup. 30 weeks and the fear of giving birth to a full sized baby (or - cringe - oversized) is now in full swing.

Ahem...well the calendar don't lie so here's the updates for this week: Baby Center is here and the 3D preggo picture and info can be found by clicking here. Again, I refuse to subject you to the Visible Embryo's "artwork" but I did learn by reading the info there that Bug's irises are now pigmented (blue until well after birth and then we'll see). Other than that, everything they have to say is covered by the other blurbs.

Bug is doing well. She's getting very strong (ouch! ooof!) and more than a bit crowded these days if the amount of fidgeting she's doing is any indication. Also, now when she "fins" it is more like watching someone trying to stretch their way out of a plastic bag.
Weird.
Funny.
And sometimes, if you happen to be the plastic bag, not overly comfortable.

I'm not sleeping all that well but that could be due to any number of things, including Bug's little late night/early morning forays into interpretative dance. Since she actually seems to be a good little sleeper for the most part, I shouldn't complain...although I apparently just did.

I'm not quite sure why but suddenly I'm absolutely crazy about milk. I've always liked milk, loved it even, but these days I can't get enough of the stuff.

29 Weeks or Hie Ho, Hie Ho, 76 Days to Go

This pic is off the internet showing a baby that is 29 weeks along.

The Baby Center update (as sparse as it is) can be found by clicking on this link and the 3d rotatable picture and info is available for your viewing pleasure if you click on this. I know I usually post the link for the Visible Embryo website but since the visuals remind me of movie posters from "Night of the Living Dead" or "28 Days Later," I'm just going to leave that for now. Besides, the only cool stuff from that website indicates that Bug now has hair on her head (not lanugo) and her bone marrow and brain stem have now developed enough that they are operating as they should (producing red blood cells, regulating her body temperature, etc).

So what's up with Bug and I? She seems to be having a grand ole time swishing around in my uterus, blissfully unaware (or uncaring) of how difficult that can make it for me to get a good night's sleep. Most nights she's pretty good but last night she seemed to be as restless as I was and her movements were strong enough and painful enough to keep me awake or to wake me. Given how much I love my sleep, you would think I would have been a wreck half way through the night but I just can't seem to get upset when the reason I'm heading for sleep deprivation is that she's performing her little internal gymnastics. I know, I know...I'm already putty in her teensy little hands.

However, even without Bug's little nocturnal tumbling routine, last night was a bit rough because every time I moved to relieve the painful pressure point on my left hip my stomach would clench up, making me feel like someone was jabbing me in the gut with a hot poker. Being the magnanimous person I am (as I am sure you are all aware), I was expending a mighty effort to keep from screaming, grunting or crying so as not to wake up Scott but he's so dialed in to how I'm feeling these days he woke up every bloody time anyway.

So, I spent a ridiculous amount of time and energy last night awake smiling like a besotted eejit while our daughter pummeled my internal organs or in the throes of pain quickly followed by spousal guilt. Ah, c'est fun!

Ka-Sproing, MoFo!

Ahhh...I remember the good old days when Bug's movements were soft and oh-so-cute instead of strong and oh-so-bloody-crazy. Even after the little butterfly flutters moved on to teensy little bumps, and then those teensy little bumps morphed into more insistent punches and kicks I still thought it was great because it confirms that everything is humming along as it should.

However, there comes a time (and I knew that it was a possibility from reading things off THE DREADED INTERNET) where your child can hit you so hard in just the right place that you cough, choke, or double over as much as is physically possible around that basketball you used to call your belly. Somehow, I thought I would be spared this rite of passage since I'm a girlie girl and I'm having a girl. Surely she wouldn't kick the crap out of her mom, would she? Hell no! She's inside me right now dreaming of our first mom and daughter manicure and anxiously awaiting the the theatrical release of Sex in the City 2, right?

Ummm...apparently not.

The other night while Scott and I were watching tv, she somehow managed to kick or punch me so hard on the ribs that I yelled out loud. If you had synesthesia, the sensation would have sounded like a cross between a sproing and a nuclear bomb blast with a bit of attitude mixed in for good measure: kind of like a "Ka-Sproing MoFo!"

I know that sounds funny but I was in pain for over an hour afterwards. Bug has been pretty active lately but I have to wonder how the hell did she manage to get so strong at 27 weeks and what prompted that little outburst?

Of course, SOMEONE was forcing us to sit through TSN's Sportsdesk so that may explain a lot...football highlights piss me off too and don't even get me started about baseball.