Just a few days until week 18 which means I’m one week closer to being halfway there!
When I was pregnant with Max, I kept counting the weeks down, excited to get to the finish as quickly as possible. This time around, I keep thinking OH MY GOSH I ONLY HAVE 22 WEEKS LEFT. 22 weeks to paint the room, buy a crib, choose a name and figure out everything else you need to remember about having a baby. All of that leads me to the conclusion that 22 weeks is not nearly enough time so I’m going to need at least another year to be pregnant.
Since my last update not much has changed except for my weight. By week 16 I was up 16 pounds. That’s right, I am WINNING this thing called pregnancy! A pound a week. If I play my cards right, I just might surpass my husband at his race weight. The competitive athlete in me is thinking I’M GOING FOR IT!
As far as fatigue and nausea go, there has been no relief. I have approximately one day a week where I feel good and “normal” – as close to normal as you can feel when you feel nothing like yourself! I keep waiting for the second trimester honeymoon to start like it did with Max.
Still waiting.
ANY DAY NOW.
Cravings: cheese and crackers (I could eat these for every meal, some days I do just that). Aversions: the smell of chicken, the taste of kale, occasionally my husband (after further online forum investigation I’ve realized this is very common and is likely to come and go until week 29 – sorry, dear).
During week 15, I had an appointment with the doctor for fetal heartbeat and measurement. The doctor was tied up in a delivery so they told me to reschedule. One of thing I’ve learned through this experience is how to become high maintenance. This is NOT who I am. But I realized early on that no one gets extra points (or a reduction in cost) by not calling the nurse to ask a “stupid” question or not requesting what they want – even if it’s “overboard”. So when I told the nurse that we were waiting for this check up to formally announce the pregnancy, they gave me an ultrasound! It was great to see baby wiggling around. I asked the technician if she could guess on the gender and she politely said I don’t like to do that. Instead, she showed me a shot between the legs and my nonmedical eyes saw absolutely nothing! Hmm….it was looking like a girl to me.
During week 16, I finished weaning off of progesterone. In all, I took 15 weeks of nightly injections. That’s well over 100 injections! By the end, my poor glutes were so sore and I kept hitting veins – what a mess! Bedtime has now become much less painful. This week I also wore maternity pants for the first time. I can still wear my old jeans but who can resist pants with an elastic band?
In this week, I also scheduled an appointment at a local ultrasound place called Peek A Belly because I didn’t want to wait until week 20 to find out the gender. That’s right – high maintenance AND impatient! HMMPH! The technician asked what I thought I was having – I said girl – and sure enough she confirmed: GIRL!
GIRL!?
My mind exploded in dozens of pink puppies, unicorns and princess outfits. GIRL! Holy crap – GIRL! MINI ME! I’m not sure the world is ready. I got to see some nice views and movement. I also learned why I can feel her so much (and so early) – she’s basically lying on the placenta like a pillow so there’s no cushion between her and my stomach. Beating up mom already – great preparation for the teenage years!
(by the way, I’ll have a girl for rent from ages 12 to 18 if she’s anything like I was)
Now that we know it’s a girl, I can choose a color to paint the room and start filling it with bunnies, butterflies and tea cups. You think I’m joking! But I’ve spent the past 3 ½ years reading books about trucks, learning the names of complex pieces of construction equipment and getting my Thomas the Train on. I’ve been living with a husband, a boy and a male dog. Ok, he’s neutered but for all categorical purposes he too is a boy. It is about time I get someone else on my side!
(Poor Max seems to be in denial about the whole thing. He keeps walking around shouting: NO, IT’S A BOY!)
In week 17, I started my twice monthly appointments to watch for any signs of pre-term labor. The good news is that I am currently all clear. I also got another peek at baby this week and the ultrasound technician confirmed – yup, girl! (couldn’t have told me that 2 weeks ago, huh?)
As for workouts, some days I feel really good, other days really bad. I just let my body be the guide. If I’m feeling good, I go faster. If I’m feeling bad, I go slow or I just stop. After taking 10 weeks completely off, I was fearful that I would return to working out only to be unfit, pregnant, heavy and very, very slow. Then a funny thing happened – the fitness and strength came back. My paces, watts, heart rate – these have all been a fascinating science experiment to track.
My swimming has returned unusually fast and I can still swim on some of my old intervals if in the massive, awesome draft of Marty. Speaking of my lanemate, though he can lap me on a 150 when I’m not pregnant, he still requests that I swim with him. He’s either being protective papa bear or knows that no one will jump in the lane with the pregnant woman. I’ve been swimming 3 – 4x a week and using paddles, pull buoy or fins when I want to. Although that’s no different than usual. I’ve been taking this time to also do things that I don’t usually like to do – as in: kick without fins, chair drill, breaststroke and even – gasp – get out early.
Biking – not entirely enjoyable on the trainer but such is life in eternal winter! I can still ride my tri bike but know it’s only a matter of weeks before I need to pull out the foam roller to put on top of my aero bars – THIS is the aerodynamic breakthrough you’ve all been waiting for! But I swear by it when belly gets too big and I can no longer lean over.
Running feels the best and I have no idea why. Some days my easy run pace is not too far off from what it used to be, other days, I’m running a full 2 to 3 minutes per mile slower. My longest run has been 5 ½ miles. Seems long enough for me! I’ve been doing a lot of short runs on the indoor track. There was one day where an 80 year old man was running neck and neck with me for a few laps – and then he threw down a surge and gapped me by a lap. There is slow and then there is being dropped by an 80 year old man.
As for other pregnancy fun – I am enjoying the fact that I can sleep through the night without a bathroom break and sleep on my stomach or back. Every once in awhile I remember some of the other “joys” that lie ahead. My sister in law asked me if I was ready to be pregnant again through the summer. I had a hot flash-back to the summer of 2010 when it was 100 degrees from April through July and I experienced the one thing hotter than the Queen K – summer and the third trimester.
I am definitely starting to look pregnant which means that I’m outgrowing my wardrobe. The other night, I went shopping for maternity pants. I’m not sure HOW it’s possible to look worse in maternity pants than you do in your regular jeans (which I’m usually one meal away from wearing unbuttoned) – but it happened. I seem to be pregnant mostly in my thighs, hips and chest. If my thighs get any bigger, I’m going to need a c-section on my quad so they can pull the baby out of there.
Lastly – names. When I named Max, there was no question, no discussion. We’re going to name him Max. Done. Girls names? Not so easy. Chris and I have both generated a list. And after careful review, none of the names overlap. We agree on nothing. And if I don’t do some gentle persuasion, I’m going to have a daughter named after an engine used in WWII planes. And if I get my way, Chris has informed me that she’ll be named after a brand of paper.
Is that really a problem?
All of this will be worth it, something I was reminded of as I held my 8 week old nephew last night. He was adorable! But reality set in as my sister in law explained to me (with crazy eyes, a beer in her hand and in her words “high on adrenaline”) that she has been up all hours of the day because he sleeps in 45 minute spurts. I remember that feeling – though distant, still tangible and a preview of what’s to come. Somehow, you soldier through it – weary, disheveled and when you don’t think you can hang on one day longer, they start sleeping 60 minutes at a time.
Baby steps.
