In My Father's Arms

A gentle breeze rustles the leaves and grasses, whispering across our small property and down the street as my lovely children frolic through the un-mowed grass weeds in the front yard.  My daughter's dark blonde hair is tousled and tossed by the tendrils of wind that play with it as she bounces here and there, knees high and arms flailing in a joyful dance.  She eagerly imparts all of the love she can muster to her Grandma as they say their goodbyes and Grandma endeavors to begin her long car ride home.

My son, slightly older than one, has one thing on his mind: Discovery.  He waddles and toddles down the stone walkway, then meanders back to try to eat the mulch, finally settling on a squat over the grass as he investigates its texture in between exuberant waves to his Grandma.
"HI--ii! Eh-loh!" he says, waving and flirting at her with his winning smile.

I stand there with my hands resting on my hips, smiling and trying to enjoy the scene the way one tries to see bright sunlight through the dense canopy of a forest.  It is beautiful and I feel the peace of it gently tugging at my heart, but I'm unable to be fully immersed in the light.

You see, I'm a worrier.  While I enjoy the sight of my children playing and the idea of their carefree worldview, I am plagued and burdened by so many things that sometimes it's difficult to see beyond that.

I'm behind on laundry.
I'm concerned about finding last minute childcare for tomorrow.
The debt left over from my son's birth gives me hives.
So do the toys my sweet son scattered all over the house...and in the drawers...and probably in the toilet...
The infection my husband just discovered on his leg has had me sick to my stomach all day.
I can't seem to finish grading that stack of Spanish tests.
And I'm just barely ahead of the train of lesson planning that roars through each week.
I struggle to find time to just be with my children, my husband.
My to do list is monumental and contains items both necessary and self-inflicted (I'm an over achiever).
The bills make me want to cry.
The lack of funds sometimes does.
The budget that somehow always stretches over all our needs but gives us near heart attacks every month.
I'm just about always wishing that my already part time job could be even more part time.
I'm stressed.  About everything.
I wonder when I'm going to get in that time with my daughter to work on her sight words.
Naptime.  Will my son stop taking two naps soon?  I don't know how I'll ever survive when he does. 

At this point, my son decides he's done being independent and has explored enough for the day.  He toddles over and wraps his arms around my knees and squeals a little because he hasn't yet grasped the words he needs to specify what he wants.  I pick him up and hold him close, relishing the feel of his fuzzy, white hair against my face and the way his chest and shoulders squeeze into me as closely as possible.  Whatever was bothering him is gone when he melts into my arms.  His sigh of contentment is audible as his chubby face finds its way into the hollow of my neck.  Whatever frustrated him in his play is forgotten. He's with Mommy now and everything is better with Mommy.

"Take it to heart."
I hear His voice--God's--as I often do when really investigating the way my children and I interact.
Today, He is showing me how they trust me.  How they need me.  How I bear their burdens.  Baby Bear and Bunny have no worries when they're with me.  They've entrusted all their concerns, boo boos, frustrations, hunger, and fear to my care and my kisses where they leave them with sweet forgetfulness.  They don't think about whether or not their next meal will come or if they'll still have someone to hold them and love them tomorrow.  They know that I will provide and they rest in that.  They know my character.  I've proven myself to them time and time again.

And isn't that how God is with me?  My Father?  My Comforter?  My Provider?

Moments ago I was jealous of how carefree their little lives are.

Now, I realize that mine was likewise meant to be carefree.  Not easy.  Following Christ is not going to be easy.  But carefree...in a sense...it will always be. 

"Give your burdens to the Lord, and he will take care of you.  He will not permit the godly to slip and fall."  -Psalm 55:22

"Casting all your care upon him; for he careth for you." I Peter 5:7

He wants to carry my burdens.  When I start to feel suffocated with the weight of them, it's because I am carrying a load that is not mine--that is literally too much for me.  It wasn't ever intended for me, in the same way that the bills, grocery shopping, laundry, and part time job weren't intended for my children to carry.  I was made to find myself in Him--my identity, my purpose, my entire being is fully completed in His arms. 

I take a deep breath and it feels as if a heavenly hand pulled open the shade that kept me from enjoying the sun.  I like it here in my Father's arms.  It's safe here, and peaceful.  I was never meant to be anywhere else.  

32 Weeks

I started testing my sugar this week.  It's been right where it should be, except for a couple of times, usually in the mornings.  Exercise seems to really help keep it down.  Also, to keep my fasting numbers low, it seems to help if I snack in the middle of the night.  I've started eating salami and muenster once or twice a night.  Also, a snack of protein and carbs before bed helps.

I've been feeling better in the mornings since sugar testing.

I have total exhaustion.  I have been napping every day for over a week now.  If I don't nap, my body shuts down.

I threw up Kashi cereal once--Wednesday evening, the first night of sugar testing.

I have been feeling much better, overall.  I'm wondering if it's the new diet?  I hope not.  If I pass (as I feel I will) I plan on eating whatever I want. 

I threw up at Dave's family picnic.  I'm wondering if it was partly the exhaustion of a busy weekend and partly that I can no longer eat when I need to.

We've settled on the name I've been wanting forever.  I really wanted to make sure it was a name that my husband loved too, and he has grown to love it.

Sleeping (at night) is getting more achy and difficult.  I still sleep well when I sleep but I usually wake up a few times uncomfortable, hot, or hungry, and need to eat and then turn on the TV to go to sleep.  They say sleeping with the TV isn't good, but if that's the truth, why do I fall asleep every time I turn it on? 

I'm feeling like I'm missing out on Noelle's life again.  I get easily short with her and often need to just rest without her wiggling beside me.  I listen and watch her play with her Daddy and get so jealous that I can't be there with them.  I try to snuggle and pur into her when I'm capable, but it's not as often as either she or I would like.  I don't want to lose the wonderful relationship we had before I got pregnant.  I feel like I've been partly missing out on the past 7 months of her life.  When the baby comes, I'll be better capable of playing with her, but I'll also have less time to do so. 

Smells are bothering me again.  

20 Weeks

The biggest development this week is discovering that I'm carrying a BOY!!!  We went in for the ultrasound soon after school and the little guy had his legs opened right away! We were all happy, except for Bunny.  We hadn't realized how much her heart had been set on a girl until that moment.  She said she'd been asking Jesus for a girl.  I told her that God always answers her prayers but sometimes the answer is "No," because he has something better in mind than our ideas.  She didn't like that idea.  Anyway, that was before we found out.  When we went to the imaging place, the tech told us right away it was a boy.  She knew Bunny's preferences and she phrased it this way: "Well...she's not right!" so I said,
"Bunny! It's a boy!" and her face fell and she looked down quietly for a moment before saying,
"Well, I'm not going to play with him." We reminded her that her best friend is a boy and they have lots of fun playing together and she responded that she doesn't like to play with him. 
"Well, are you still going to love him?" I asked. 
"Yeah, I'll still love him," she said grudgingly.  Then she hid behind her Daddy's chair and cried for awhile.  Later, she popped her head out, still mulling over the sad situation and said,
"I'm NOT gonna love him!"  When we tried to talk to her about it.  I told her how I decided I wouldn't love her Auntie E if she was born a girl and she was and I loved her very much anyway and she responded, "I don't want to talk about it." 

Well, that only lasted for a couple of hours.  By the time we were ready to go to church that evening she was excited to tell her best friend that she has a little brother too now. In the days that have passed, she has manifested her growing love for him over and over.  She has plans for him when he comes out, she loves helping me pick out little toys and clothes for him, and she laughs when she talks about him and giggles when I tell her how much he's wiggling inside of me.  We knew that the frustration would pass over time.  She responds to things she hasn't planned much in the way I do--denial and anger and then acceptance.  She also has a very nurturing heart, she's eager to love on others--especially babies. 

After the ultrasound appointment, we did some shopping and we stopped at Moe's for dinner.  When we came home we immediately made this video to share the news with our families--most of whom live too far away for a one-on-one visit: http://youtu.be/wgAUu9a_waQ.be
Turns out, it wasn't my most brilliant idea since my parents and Dave's Dad aren't so savy with the technology thing, but it's okay.  We tried our best to make the announcement personal and special without actually being there.  All in all, it was a good effort and everyone was really excited--well, my family at least.  Dave's didn't respond. 

Once we'd given the families a couple of hours to get the message, we put this week's belly picture up on Facebook.  We figured the blue ribbon would get the message across.  After awhile, we put the link to the video as well.  In any case, it was fun spreading the news, though after 5 sisters and a daughter, the idea of carrying and raising a boy is really a foreign concept to me.  The last time I took care of a baby boy (my brother) I was 7. 

Other developments this week:

He gets hiccups a lot.  I should go back and read through my blog posts of Bunny's pregnancy to be sure, but I don't remember feeling the hiccups this early. 

I can feel his little body sometimes if he gets in the right position.  I mean, I can sometimes feel it even if he's laying still.  It's so cute!

I feel baby movement every hour when I'm sitting still.  Sometimes I can even tell which body parts are moving.  His little legs feel like little popsicle sticks. 

I've begun needing to pee more frequently.  I haven't had that yet with him because I've had such a hard time taking in liquid. 

I'm hit with exhaustion daily.   With Bunny, the exhaustion was more the first trimester.  Now, I'm just wiped after my half day teaching, and sometimes as I teach it's all I can do to keep from sitting down and/or putting my head on my desk. 

My legs have been tired and I had a couple of leg and back cramps.  This is in addition to the Varicose veins that are driving me nuts.  They're worse where they started during Bunny's pregnancy--at my ankle--and that's where they actually hurt, but they're popping out already. 

11 Weeks

Almost there, almost there (and when I say that, I mean almost to the end of the morning sickness, not the pregnancy ) 

This week was characterized by a shift in the morning sickness.  There were moments--mornings especially where I felt even more human than normal.  It wasn't all day, it wasn't every day, but it was enough to help me see the light at the end of the tunnel.

I also made the amazing discovery that spearmint leaf candy is a wonderful cure for indigestion.  They work better than tums for me, and I got official permission from my midwife to use them any time I need to.

I still feel little stirrings that I'm sure are the baby.  I can't say they're more often than before, but I feel them every day or every couple of days.  I know this is so early for this but I also know what I'm feeling.

I wake up in the mornings feeling slightly better than I did the previous weeks and every day so far this week I've just taken the Protonix (for acid) and I've tried to avoid the Zofran (for nausea) because it's so expensive (and we get the generic brand so it's only $67 for 15 pills, down from $1,000 for the same amount of brand name) but so far, I'm always driven to have to take it.  The  most important thing for me is to keep things down.  The Zofran helps me keep down the Protonix which helps my stomach to be welcoming enough to food that everything stays down more permanently.  Then of course, there's the colace I have to keep taking since I'm still ridiculously constipated despite reason and the prenatal vitamins.  I'm almost done with the suppositories, though.  I feel torn about that because I'm half afraid that the bleeding will come back without them. 

I finally got to hear the hearbeat this week.  I have an anterior cervix which means my uterus leans back (my chiropractor told me that with Bunny and my OB doctors told me he was crazy but my midwife confirmed it which just confirmed my belief that medical doctors aren't always all there).  This means that a heartbeat is more difficult to find.  With Bunny, when I went to the OBGYN, they always looked for the heartbeat, gave up and pulled out the little ultrasound machine.  But my midwife doesn't seem to have one in her office and she was much more persistent in looking for the heartbeat.  I was so afraid there wouldn't be one because for 11 weeks, the only confirmation I've gotten was the pregnancy test.  Come to think of it, I did the hospital blood tests a few weeks ago, but I didn't have any calls about them or anything so I didn't really know more than the pregnancy test.  But after about a minute of searching, it was there, strong and fast at 174 beats per minute.  I started tearing up immediately but then I didn't want to cry in front of the midwife or my daughter so I stopped myself.  It was the most beautiful sound I could have ever heard and just the confirmation I needed to be able to focus mentally on more than my extreme sickness.

My midwife also told me that I'm probably slightly dehydrated and that it seems that my body hasn't fully been able to recover from what it's been going through.  She said that this is evidenced by my cloudy pee and by a slightly elevated temperature.  It's frustrating because drinking too much causes indigestion to flare up which threatens to make me vomit and lose any moisture I previously had.  Also, the persistent AWFUL taste in my mouth makes drinking water (which I normally love) a horrible experience.  But today I've worked really hard to drink lots and I've actually been peeing frequently and my urine is coming out closer to clear than to a deep yellow, which is a good sign.  But today, my nausea is slightly abated from a 9 to a 7 or so which makes keeping water down much easier.  Everything is a double edged sword in this pregnancy.  Everything. 


Noelle has had some heartbreaking moments, let me tell you.  On Tuesday I was feeling particularly well and got to spend more time with her and more time getting house chores done (so my exhausted husband would be able to just come home and rest) and she took it as a chance to act out.  Bunny has her moments, but over all she is a sweet, loving, and very considerate child.  But Tuesday she was having dramatic episodes of running away from me weeping and then throwing herself into dark corners of the house like her bed, my bed, or under the kitchen table and not letting me talk to her.  I followed after her each time holding her and talking to her and she'd pull away and do it again.  It usually came after I'd asked her not to touch the Christmas tree or to please pick up the orange peel she'd just thrown on the living room floor.  She didn't want to obey me which would lead to me threatening timeout which would lead to her dramatic exit from my presence.  Finally, I stopped talking and I just rubbed her hair and sat with her.  It seemed to help a bit.  Then later, I was in the kitchen doing the dishes and she was peeling her orange (she loves to peel oranges, currently) and she suddenly said quite dramatically, "I will NEVER be the same.  I will NEVER be the same!" and she threw her head to the one side with the saddest, most forlorn expression I'd never seen. 
      "Why is that?" I asked?
      "Because you never hold me when you're sick!"  (Poor baby's right. My mommy guilt is intensified with this statement but there's nothing I can do about it when I can't even peel myself off up the couch)
       "Well, I can hold you now.  Do you need me to hold you?"
        "Yeah, for a little bit."  I wanted to tell her that things would go back to normal but I knew I couldn't.  She was right.  So I told her that when the baby came there would also be times that the baby would need to be held and that I wouldn't be able to hold her but it didn't change how much I loved her or how much I wanted to hold her.  I told her that changes usually bring good things.  It's okay never to be the same because she would like the way things would change eventually.  I don't know how much got through to her.  She's still insanely excited about the new baby, but also struggling lots and lots with the immediate changes in her life.  Now granted, I'm thinking that some of this might be because she's three which makes me feel better.  At least, that's what fellow parents of three year olds have assured me.

      On another note, I get to have my first ultrasound! My midwife thinks it's a good idea to check for twins when someone is as sick as I am.  Honestly, I'd be happy either way, twins or not.  I did pray for twins, but I also know that having one would be easier so I'm happy with whatever God thinks I can handle.  What I'm most excited about is a chance to see my baby.  If hearing the heartbeat is amazing, then seeing a baby, in  my opinion, is so much more so.  I'm so, very happy about that!
    One more thing--with hearing the heartbeat, my extremely extroverted self was finally able to post the news on facebook! I did so with this picture, but then I followed it up with uploading my belly pictures which most people saw first.  Oh well.  I tried. 

8 Weeks

Whew, this was a trying week!

Well, towards the beginning of my 8th week, it seemed that Zofran and Zantac seemed to have everything under control, but then the weekend came and I started vomiting again.  Sunday, it was the worse.  I felt horrible and acidic all day long and to top it off I ran out of Zantac after my first dose and I decided not to start the new antacid my midwife suggested until Monday because I didn't want two drugs in my system at the same time.  I don't know if that was a good or a bad idea, but I lost count of how many times I threw up.  It came to the point that I was dry heaving over and over, and I couldn't take anything in anymore.

Then the cramping started.  Awful, gut-wrenching cramps that brought me down to the bathroom floor groaning in agony.  Since this is my second child, I know what contractions feel like and these weren't it, so I was only slightly worried that I might be miscarrying--that, and there was no blood.  I was pretty sure it was my stomach.  It felt like diarrhea cramps, but so much worse than I've ever felt and I started sweating so bad I took off my shirt and was down to my tank top, laying on the cool tile.  With shaking fingers, I tried to call a friend who didn't answer, and then I texted our baby sitter and asked her if she could come.  Finally, I called my husband on his work phone and begged permission to call 911 (It wasn't that he was unwilling to let me do so, I just needed the confirmation that I wasn't overreacting).  When he agreed that I could, I hung up before he even said goodbye and dialed.  Let me tell you, it was the longest call ever.  I checked, it was 9 minutes which is pretty bad when you're in terrible pain and hyperventilating on top of it (I've hyperventilated only 3 times that I can count--once when I had an unexplained pain with Bunny's pregnancy, during labor, and then this past Sunday.  It seems to happen when I feel I've lost control of the situation and I'm in terrible pain).  I could tell the girl on the phone wanted to hang up, but I asked her to stay on the line. Somehow, having her there made me feel better.

Meanwhile, my 3 year old was in our bedroom watching Princess Tiana, and came in once or twice to check on me, and then came in screaming that she couldn't get a dress on her Princess Belle Barbie doll.  Poor thing.  She fully understands that this baby is making me terribly sick, but she still speaks of the baby with love and adoration.  I also remind her that I was very very sick when she was in my tummy too.  I tell her that babies do that sometimes because they need all the food that the mommies are eating and that can sometimes make the mommies feel sick, but it's not the baby's fault because he or she really needs to take the food.  Anyway, it seems to help her understand.  Anyway, at first, I was in the bed with these cramps, and then brought myself to the bathroom to throw up and to try to poop.  When I was in bed, she kept tenderly leaning over and kissing me and telling me she loved me and trying to make me feel better.  I have a daughter with a heart of gold, let me tell you!

So, back to the bathroom.  I finally hung up with the 911 operator after she confirmed they had an ambulance that had responded to the call, and it was just in time because I was able to poop (TMI, I know, but vital to my story).  It wasn't diarrhea at first, I was just super constipated (which this baby has done to me hardcore no matter how much I drink, how many fruits and veggies I consume, or how many Fiber One bars I snack on).  Once I finally got the blockage out (which felt like giving birth in and of itself--cramps and all), the diarrhea came like water, emptying me of any and every bit of hydration my body was clinging too.  I noticed that my hands were starting to lose feeling and curl up, so I ripped the sea bands off, trying to get the blood to flow.  Then I was back to the potty.  That's when my sitter came in. I was in so much pain, but also so embarrassed that she had to be there with me while I hyperventilated half-naked on the potty.  The ambulance came shortly after she did, and the EMT came in, also while I was half naked on the toilet, and talked to me awhile.  Then I asked him to leave so I could get up and cloth myself again, and he graciously did so.

We brought the party out to the livingroom where I was suddenly chilled to the bone, barefoot, and in a tank top and pj pants whining in a corner of the living room floor while my worried babysitter and two EMTs looked on. The sitter grabbed me a blanket and  Bunny grabbed her princess armchair as if to join me (later she told me she'd gotten the chair for me to sit in--isn't she so sweet!?!?!) and my babysitter said that she then dutifully went into the room and grabbed and started putting on her shoes and socks, as if she knew we were going to be leaving.  Meanwhile the EMT was telling me he wasn't comfortable leaving me here and that he wanted to take me to the hospital and I was balancing the huge bill I knew we'd get with my need to be checked out and to make sure the baby was alright.  I went without much argument, actually.  My sitter was thoughtful enough to think of my bare feet and she grabbed me socks  and my purse, and they carried me to my car. Much to my chagrin, one of my neighbors was out front, holding the door as I came out.  She was so sweet, though.  She'd come over to make sure Bunny was taken care of.  Once I got in the ambulance, I asked for my phone, and my sitter found it on the bathroom floor and brought it to me.

The ride there (no sirens or speeding) was both interminable, and also shorter than I expected, since I've driven that route myself many times.  I was in pain the whole time, and still hyperventilating so my pulse was high and my oxygen was low.  They gave me oxygen and then a bed pan, and when the cramps started up again, the EMT apologized and told me he had to check to make sure I wasn't bleeding.  I wasn't.  I whined and complained the whole time, and I was shaking violently--not only from the cold, I guess from the adrenaline too.

When we go to the hospital, I felt myself calming down quickly, and feeling almost normal.  The cramping was still there, but it wasn't intense (I'd actually had two bouts of diarrhea before leaving the house) and it was down from a 7 to a 2 or 3 (on the 1-10 scale).  I also went to the bathroom and emptied my bowels once more. Meanwhile, I started realizing how thirsty I was, and no one would let me drink anything.  Dave came in only five minutes after I had, and it was comforting to have him there.  He was most worried about the baby, though I still wasn't too worried about it.  I was more focused on my discomfort.

After I talked to a million people, they hooked me up to fluids, and gave me some Zofran intravenously, and the ER doctor checked my cervix, which he said was a healthy blue (apparently it's supposed to be blue because of the blood vessels.  Who knew?)  So, it seemed that the baby was fine.  Then, I spent a lot of time in and out of sleep on an uncomfortable OB/GYN bed that's only half the length of a regular bed, but it was okay.  Curled up, I slept like a baby for the moments that someone wasn't coming into my room to check on me or ask me questions.  It's amazing how pregnancy can make a champion sleeper out of me (though I don't sleep nearly as much with this one as I did with Bunny, but then again, I'm only half as busy).

Once the fluids were almost gone (and I was starting to feel a bit better, but still quite thirsty) they told me I'd have to pee.  I felt it was a bit ridiculous to ask for a urine sample from someone who came in dehydrated, but oh well.  I had to wait til I could produce it.  Towards the end of the IV, I realized that my queasy stomach was back because there was no longer any antacid present.  So they pushed some Protonix into my arm, and the ER doctor prescribed some for me as well.  Then, I was not only thirsty, I was starving.  The ER guy found me a couple of saltines, and between those, the ice chips, and a granola bar I found at the bottom of my purse, I was satiated enough not to begin dry heaving again.  Soon, I was able to pee again, and then, thankfully, Dave and I could travel home around 10:30.  We were both starving by that point so we grabbed something from McDonalds (EW!).  I grabbed a chicken ceasar salad because I was hoping it would have romaine lettuce in it. It didn't, the lettuce was wilted and brown, and not worth eating, but I ate enough to get some nutrients into me, and somewhere between starting and finishing the salad, we were home again, thanking our exhausted sitter, and settling into bed ourselves.

Monday morning, however, I had a little more diarrhea, and it was quite bloody and mucosy.  I looked online (which I know one shouldn't do) and was scared to death by what I saw so I called the ER to tell them of the change, and then my midwife who told me to talk to my family doctor.  I went in that afternoon and he checked me and said that there was blood present, and it was probably just hemorrhoids (I've had them off and on since Bunny's birth), but he referred me to a GI doctor anyway, just to make sure it's not something more serious.  He said to try to keep my stool soft so as not to agitate it, but since then, I eat more fruits and veggies every day than anything else, and my stool is still, quite stubbornly hard as I continue to struggle with constipation.  This is hard for me to grasp since I've never had that problem before.  Oh well.

This week, things have been looking up.  I discovered that if I basically eat little bits of food ALL DAY LONG (coupled with my new med combination), I feel almost normal.  I mean, I'm still a bit queasy and have moments I want to vomit, but if I quickly eat something, those moments will pass.  I've even been able to do some housework in the past few days! I cleaned and vacuumed my daughter's room (it was getting to the point that you couldn't see the floor due to the toys), I did a huge load of dishes, did a bit of laundry, and today I worked on Christmas decorations and I swept and mopped the kitchen floor! If I weren't pregnant, that wouldn't be much of an accomplishment, but now, it's the little things that bring me joy.

Bunny seems to be reacting to the pregnancy in her own way.  Between Thanksgiving day and Black Friday, she had four accidents, and let me tell you, this girl never has accidents.  We potty trained her at two years old, and she stopped having regular accidents by about 6-8 months later.  I'm thinking it's probably a reaction to the stress of having a sick mommy and a changed routine.  I hate it, but we spend lots of time watching movies now.  Whenever Daddy's home, the TV is absolutely OFF LIMITS because she spends so much time watching it with me (usually she watches and I sleep) that I have to counter the unhealthiness with abstinence where I can. But then again, Daddy's so tired being a "single parent" these days, that sometimes he just needs the break too.  Oh well.  I'll have to just shrug off the guilt because it's the best I can do.  Once the baby's born, maybe we can put her on a year-long TV fast.  Maybe.  Or maybe not, because maybe I'll find I need her distracted more often.  Oh Jesus, help me.  I just want to be a good mommy!!!

Anyway, despite the drama of this past Sunday, things have leveled out again to a point where I haven't thrown up in nearly a week and I seem to be able to be more productive.  I just hope when that magic number 12th week comes around, things will shift like they're supposed to.  With Bunny, the sickness lasted the whole time, but in the second trimester and on, it was something manageable.  That's all I'm asking for this one.  Though I do have it managed right now, I've done so with lots and LOTS of work on my part, and when I feel well, I'm only just barely holding it together.  I'm one cracker or grape away from losing it.  With Bunny, that passed sometime after the 15th week, or even earlier.  In any case, my 40th week can't come soon enough.  This is gonna be a long, 9 months!

On a positive note, I seem to have gained an inch in the waist.  That makes me super excited.  Maybe I'll look pregnant earlier with this one :-D