21 Weeks

How far along: 21 weeks, completed 5.29.12

Weight gain: I won’t know how much more I’ve gained (other than the 4 pounds so far) until the end of June at my next appointment. It’s the curse–and blessing–of not owning a scale (cast your votes–blessing vs. curse–below).

Clothes: Dresses and skirts with soft, stretchy waistbands are my absolute BFF’s, especially with our little heat wave over the weekend.

Purchases: Baby clothes!!! Aaaaah! I did the deed and went crazy on the frillies. It happened like this: I went to Target quite innocently to get a gift for somebody, and, well, since I was already there, well . . . ya know . . . might as well . . . yes. I wandered up to the baby section.

More like I ran up the escalator.

I was so eager to feast my eyes on cute little girl things that I couldn’t hold back.

I hit the clearance racks and loaded up my basket with a pair of adorable little grey leggings with ruffles on the bottom, little dresses with flowers, little poofy skirts with pockets, a little pink shirt, little tangerine-colored bottoms with a bow . . . oh, oh, oh!

All in all, I came home with about 7 or so outfits (one or two newborn things, and then a range of things from 3 months to 6 months, 9 months, and beyond) that I promptly and gushingly showed to my brother-in-law, since he was the only one around and I had to wax enthusiastic to somebody.

Then I spread everything out on the bed to show my husband the second he walked in the door.

I’m sure people will give us tons of cute girly stuff (who can resist those tiny ruffle-ridden outfits??), so I don’t want to shop for clothes too much–but this was my way of celebrating the fact that she’s a girl, and I know it.

I also got some cocoa butter to complement my collection of lotions, and have started applying it regularly. The skin on my belly felt kind of itchy the other day, and I realized I must begin the battle against stretch marks now!

Body: My abdominals have not been working the way they usually do. Suddenly it’s become slightly challenging to get out of bed, get up from a chair, get up from the couch–the common denominator being getting up. It’s like my ab muscles have migrated and don’t want to support the rest of my body in its daily motions like they used to. So I’m using my arms a lot to pull myself up, especially since the midwife warned me that trying to use my abs could cause them to separate up top in a way that’s harmful to me.

Sleep: I just can’t do the stomach-sleeping thing anymore. I tried a few times, and not only has it become uncomfortable, but the Little Wa-Wa has started to protest. When I lie on my stomach, she’s started to make her displeasure known by giving me some amazingly strong thumps. Enter the body pillow! It’s a miracle worker. I slept with it one night and loved it. The next night, because I’m stubborn and don’t want to be needy, I decided to try to sleep without it. I proceeded to toss and turn for hours, until finally around 3 am, when I was mid-roll and jiggling the bed around something awful, my husband spoke into the darkness two solitary words:

“Body pillow.”

“Okay,” I mumbled, grabbing the pillow, stuffing it between my legs and leaning my torso on it. Immediately, sweet slumber returned.

Best moment(s) of the week: Calling our daughter by name. I’ll fill you guys in on all the details and the thought behind this later.

Movement: I felt the most intense movement to date on Memorial Day. There I was on my back, minding my own sleepy business, and suddenly I felt these strong . . . I guess they felt like pulses. Kind of like when your heart gives a big thump–it was like a massive heart giving a violent pulse in my belly (sorry, that sounds kind of creepy, but it’s the best way I can think to describe the sensation). My husband and I were lying in bed at the time, about to read some Sherlock, so I grabbed his hand and put it on my belly. Thump went the Little Wa-Wa. Thump! My husband’s eyes got wide. “Wow,” he said.

I beamed. Having him finally be able to really, really feel our baby move (beyond a shadow of a doubt) is incredible.

Food cravings/aversions: All normal! Though I have to say that after having the leftovers of this incredibly spicy Thai dish, the little one started moving around like crazy. I read somewhere that she can taste what I eat through the amniotic fluid starting around now, so I want to try and get some spice and variety in there so that she comes out loving what I love: new flavors! Heat! Vegetables!

Symptoms: I’m just starting to feel big and a little awkward, and not having my abs be my faithful supporters is weird. That’s about it.

Emotions: Feeling great! I’m excited about our birthing classes starting soon, excited about my baby shower coming up in the not-so-distant future (July 14th), and excited that the apartment we were hoping for seems to be coming through. God is so good that it verges on ridiculous.

Hopes and dreams: I have high hopes for the Bradley method class I signed us up for with a woman called Denyse (she’s been recommended to me by a few people). It starts in a few weeks, and goes for 9 weeks (3 hours per night on Mondays). My book on hypnobirthing also just arrived, and I’m looking forward to reading through that and doing some of the exercises.

What I miss: Ach–sleeping on my stomach. But it won’t kill me to go without this pleasure for 19 weeks, so . . . whatever.

What I’m looking forward to: An even bellier belly next week! It’s grown noticeably, and it’s bizarre to think it will grow so much more before all this is over.

Husband update:  Hearing him say our daughter’s name is . . . thrilling. Comforting. Lovely. Moving. Wonderful. I think it means a lot to both me and my husband, and has brought him closer to her.

Every now and then we’ll be talking, I’ll say something ridiculous like “I can’t wait to bundle her up like a little burrito!” and his eyes will just get all dreamy and mushy and full of love and hope.

It’s a beautiful thing to see in a man’s face.

And that’s it for this week . . . next week, more of the same!

The big pre-Rummage + pre-John purge

I’ve been delaying a little on the tales of this year’s gigantic Rummage sale up in Winnetka, and the beautiful haul of stuff I brought back with me, but before diving in I have to talk about the purging that happened right beforehand.

The last time we officially purged our apartment was back in January, and it was time to have another go-’round for two reasons:

1) Rummage was coming up and I needed to practice the “out with the old” part before the “in with the new” hit us hard.

2) My brother-in-law John was about to move in with us for the summer, necessitating an emptying/reorganizing effort in the 2nd bedroom.

My mom always used to say that guests are a great excuse to get organized and to clean, and I concur. If John hadn’t come, who knows how long some of this stuff may have stuck around, generally loitering in a useless sort of fashion? But John came, and the stuff was put into its proper place: bags destined to be carried out the door!

There’s no feeling like walking old stuff out the door–it’s like winning a race.

Not that I’ve ever won a race . . . the whole ‘running’ thing never clicked for me. But it’s what I imagine winning a race might feel like.

Anyway! Our first mission was to clear out half of the closet I use. Remember when I color-coordinated it earlier this year? This is what it looked like:

The right hand half, destined for John’s use, housed a ton of my clothes and at least three guitars. Everything needed to find a new place. Time to make a big pile on the futon!

I love big piles on the futon. There’s no better way to feel instantly productive than to yank a lot of stuff off hangers and throw it about.

Over the course of an evening (make that two) I purged a good amount of clothing, and put into storage (i.e. large plastic boxes inna stack) anything that was too wintry and heavy for the warm season, and anything I didn’t think my pregnant self could fit into for much longer.

Of course, we had to create this clothing storage space by purging what was already in other boxes. We opened two of uncertain contents and found . . .

. . . a horse!

Goodbye, beautiful plastic horse that I loved for so many years.

My husband headed up this box-emptying effort, getting only slight distracted . . .

. . . by a tiny guitar.

That’s a keeper–it’s just the right size for my American Girl Doll. Who (and whose possessions) shall not be touched by The Purge. I have decreed it.

This purging amnesty also extended to the little box of American-Girl-doll-sized food that I made with my own two hands many, many years ago. Tiny pizza!

Tiny apple!

Tiny . . .

oh wait! It’s my old glasses from 2nd grade. Let’s see how they fit . . .

. . . just right!

They give a wonderful yellow tinge to the area around my eyes, which looks quite attractive, eh?

Not. Into the trash with ye!

Then there was an old jewelry box from Portugal that I used to think was the most beautiful thing in the world . . .

. . . but has been broken for ages. Time to go, sweet sweet jewelry box.

Next up was the project of housing of all our DVD’s in binders, to clear the shelf. My husband manned this effort solo. Great job, honeybunches!

And the purging of our TV! Into the alley, for some foraging person to find.

At this point, the closet looked more like this:

Slowly but surely, we were getting somewhere.

Then the bags were taken to the alley:

This was our first purging session. A second one happened a few weeks later, culminating in at least that much stuff going out the door again (though sadly, Haul #2 was not photographed by yours truly).

And by the end, John’s room looked like this:

And the closet, like this:

. . . with a closet organizer (a sneak peak of one of my Rummage finds).

Soon, tales of the “in with the new” part of things!

Well, let’s make that ‘soon-ish’ so that no one gets antsy waiting.