How far along? 18 weeks
Total weight gain/loss: +10 lbs
Maternity clothes: Still just maternity pants, but I think that’s mostly because the pants are the only maternity clothing I own.
Stretch marks: Still haven’t spotted any new ones
Sleep: Still about 6-7 hours. I even managed to figure out (or my body did) how to manage my water intake so I don’t have to get up every single night at 04:30 to go pee. Now it’s only every other night or so.
Best Moment this week: I’d have to say that going to my WIC appointment was pretty fun. I learn new things every time I go, and I think that all the little hand-outs I get just makes it all feel more real.
Miss anything: A non-aching back. Although, that could be due more to my poor posture and the added weight than actually being pregnant. I’m sure if I sat up straighter (like my mom has been telling me to do for years), it wouldn’t be as bad.
Movement: I think so. I feel like I’m occasionally getting poked, but mostly I just feel something similar to cramps if I’m laying on a side that baby doesn’t particularly agree with.
Food Cravings: Not Olive Garden anymore! My wonderful husband took me there as a surprise. Now, it’s milk duds, well, just chocolate in general, but specifically milk duds.
Anything making you queasy or sick? Nothing that didn’t make me queasy when I wasn’t pregnant.
Labor signs: Nope.
Belly button in or out? In.
Wedding rings on or off? Still on. My fingers feel fatter, but I’m really hoping that’s just psychological.
Happy or Moody most of the time: Mostly still happy, but occasionally I get moody (I’m noticing the moody more now. I don’t think I’m moodier than before, just that I’m more aware of it.)
Looking forward to: Finding out if we’re buying blue bow ties or pink tu-tus. :) We find out July 24th!! (Jake says no tu-tus, and I said “What’s the point of having a girl if there are no tu-tus?”)
I’m in an interesting stage. To many people, I’m not technically a mom yet. I mean, I don’t have a child that I have to feed all the time and change its diapers and so on and so forth, but I feel like a mom. I mean, I feel like a mom a little bit already. I’m already experiencing some of that parenting guilt—especially when I eat something I probably shouldn’t be eating (nothing harmful, don’t worry. I just mean eating junk verses eating good, healthy food). I’m already hearing about how the doctors say I should do this thing this way, and then, someone will ask how my appointment went, and I’ll tell them. Then it starts, “Well, that’s not how I did it…” “Are you sure that’s what he said? Because when I was pregnant…” I know they’re trying to help, but sometimes it’d be nice not to receive advice unless I asked for it; I guess that’s just part of being pregnant.
I think it’s interesting how being pregnant helps prepare moms for becoming moms. I mean, at least, I think it does. Like I said, this is an interesting stage. I’m a mom, but I’m not a mom. I feel like a mom because I do have a child. Can you see (probably) him? Can you hold (probably) him? No, not yet. But I feel (probably) him. I’m aware of (probably) his existence. There is a little person inside of me who depends on me to make healthy choices for (probably) him. I feel like having a cat has kind of prepared me. When I say this, I mean it in the sense that I went from having no one to care about other than myself to having a small, more or less helpless creature depend on me for her survival. If I don’t feed Guinevere, she doesn’t eat. If I’m not aware of the small objects I leave laying around, she could eat one and die. If I don’t pay attention to her and recognize signs that something may be amiss in her health and take her to the vet to address these issues, she could die, or worse, she could be living in pain for a very long time. Gwen doesn’t prepare me for a lot of things, like dealing with stares of annoyed people as my kid cries in a restaurant, or being aware for hours on end as I try to soothe my colicky baby and as (probably) he shows us what a healthy set of lungs he was blessed with. Having Gwen doesn’t prepare me for raising a child. Sure, I have to teach Gwen not to scratch the furniture or pee on the carpet (which the girl has never done in her life), but at the end of the day, she’s only going to live in my house. She’s only going to interact with my family and the family and friends we have over. She isn’t going to have to go out into the world and be a productive citizen. I think that’s the part I’m most scared about (in regards to pregnancy; in regards to labor, I have a whole long list): making sure my child doesn’t end up a psychopath, brat, or bum. I know those aren’t the only options, but the fact that those are even options kind of scares me.
I know that as long as Jake and I are a united front and that we parent our children like our Heavenly Father parents us, we can’t go too wrong.
