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Baby on the Run: Week 25
Week 25 was amazing for two big reasons: the giraffe and the movement.
First, the giraffe. The long story is here. And when that little rocking giraffe arrived at our apartment in Brian’s arms, I thought I was going to melt into a puddle of joy. No idea how I will handle the emotions of meeting this baby in a few months. There have been many wonderful, joyfully emotional moments throughout this pregnancy so far, but seeing that giraffe show up at my door was definitely one of the best.
Then, on Wednesday night, Brian and I saw the baby moving and kicking! I was in bed and the baby was kicking a lot, and I randomly pulled my shirt up to see my stomach, which I had never done. And I could see it! Brian came in and we were both just watching and laughing as the baby bopped around in there. And I yelled things to the baby like, “What are you doing in there?! Are you comfortable?! Are you relaxed? Are you having fun?! Do you have enough room to grow?! Do you wish your dad would stop poking you to try and get you to move?!”
So watching my stomach move is my new favorite thing. And the giraffe.
Anyway, I’m officially six months pregnant and am creeping right up on the third trimester! Crazy! Here’s what else went down this week…
BABY IS THE SIZE OF A…
rutabaga. Hahahaha what does a rutabaga look like?! Other options: head of cauliflower, acorn squash, “large banana split sundae.”
HOW I’M FEELING
Good! Back pain is gone, stomach is still a mess, but otherwise I feel good. And maybe a little emotional? I used to think pregnancy hormones were totally over-hyped, which is easy to say when you have never experienced them. But on Sunday night, I got into bed and burst into tears. And then I started laughing at the fact that I was crying. I felt like an insane person, laughing and sobbing at the same time, both completely unjustified.
WHAT I’M EATING
Too much sugar. I KNOW, I was supposed to stop doing that. (I have my glucose test this Friday. Odds of me passing? I feel like they are slim, if we’re being honest, and I’m a little nervous.)
And not chicken sausage for a while. I don’t know what happened! I love chicken sausage, I make it all the time, and last week, bam, I made it and couldn’t even look at it. The smell, the texture, everything about it made me feel ill. Ellie really lucked out that day…
ON THE WORKOUT FRONT
Nothing exciting to report here. I didn’t run at all outside last week. I did zero physical activity all weekend while we were in the Berkshires with my family. I am missing my outdoor runs, but my stomach really sucks the most in the morning, and then it’s been too hot to run outside during the day. And let’s be honest, by nighttime, I am lazy and tired and it’s not going to happen. Hopefully soon, though!
WHAT I’M WEARING
These pajamas. And my bathrobe.
WHAT I’M READING
Nada. Busy week!
HOW I’M SLEEPING
Fine. I fall asleep pretty quickly because I’m so tired by bedtime. I toss and turn a bit, and often wake up to use the bathroom at some point, but it’s not a big deal.
WHAT I’M WONDERING
What our baby GIRL is going to look like and be like!
I know, I know, I know! We were planning and hoping to be surprised, and weren’t intending to find out the baby’s sex until we met him or her in person. But curveball — we totally accidentally found out.
During the first trimester, Brian and I did all that genetic testing that determines (or at least tries to) whether the baby might have any possible diseases we should know about, and to find out if Brian or I are carriers for any diseases that might be concerning. (We’re not!) We said we didn’t want to know the baby’s sex, so when we got the results, that section was blacked out…on the first page.
We got the full results (all, like, 18 pages of them), and I was reading through them one night, and somewhere around page 16 was a column that said “fetus gender” (shouldn’t it say “fetus sex?!”) and I couldn’t un-see it.
I told Brian to look and he said, “Wait! Do something cool!” Pressure!
It was a Sunday night, so I ran out to Party City (in my pajamas), bought a disco ball piñata and a bunch of pink candy (cheesy, predictable, all those things, I know), and then told him to go to town with a broomstick. (Pro tip: Don’t hang a really heavy piñata from a really unstable chandelier, and then don’t smack it with a broom. Repeatedly.) He eventually busted the disco ball open, saw the candy, screamed, “We’re having a girl?!” and we hugged and kissed and are very excited.
The few people we told all asked the same thing: Are you disappointed you found out? And I totally get that, but we’re really not disappointed at all. How could we be? Yeah, we won’t get the big surprise in the delivery room, but I think that day will be pretty special anyway!
I definitely thought it was a boy, so here it is, in writing, on the internet: I was wrong! My maternal instincts are bad! Brian had guessed girl, so he was right.
We haven’t been able to confirm the results on an ultrasound because baby’s legs have been crossed at the last two, but our next appointment is this Friday, so maybe we’ll get additional confirmation then.
It’s a girl! So crazy!
(I’m playing it cool because I truly would’ve been pumped either way — but baby girl!!! I am completely psyched. SHOULD WE NAME HER ELLIE JR.?!)
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