Worm's Spot 16 weeks

It's not the best picture quality, but it gives you an idea of what the belly is looking like at 16 weeks; kind of lumpy if you ask me! Since I'm up to about 12 pounds now, I'd say it's definitely growing. This past week or so has brought the advent of people who know there's a worm in there commenting that they're starting to notice "the belly." My clothes are definitely not fitting well. Most are out of commission at this point and the ones that I'm trying to squeeze into are very unhappy about buttoning.

I've been feeling pretty well. I'm still very tired, but when I think back to how I was feeling those first three months it's so negligible that it's almost not worth mentioning. Worm is squirming more regularly and I really like having a little reminder of worm's presence everyday! I've taken to interpreting worm's opinions based on the movement, especially when Ben and I talk about names. (Yes...we've revived that topic!) So far, worm totally sides with me! Of course, I'm probably totally misinterpreting, and worm's really in there going, "You dummies, I'm a girl. Give it up already!" Ben's most ridiculously amusing attempt to date was, "How about William Orm Otto? Then he could be W.Orm!"

Sorry little one, I think you've inherited a nickname for life!

Cell Phone Stand-off

I hate the phone. I have a genuine disgust for the phone. I'm not sure how I grew it, or why it plagues me so, but it's there, and if you know me well enough to call me you've probably encountered my general ignorance of "that phone thing" until it's absolutely necessary to give it the time of day.

So, I wasn't all that disappointed when my cell phone became infected with an evil spirit and took a dump. Eh...it just gave me a better excuse not to pay any attention to it. However, after an extended period of ignoring it and several concerned e-mails, I came to the conclusion that maybe....just maybe....every once in awhile someone might like or even need to get in touch with me. And so, we made the trip to the mecca of my disgust, the cell phone store, today.

I hate everything about the cell phone store. I hate the little fly-catchers that stand at the door who won't let you dodge them before you tell them your whole cell phone life story so that they can determine which sales associate will play the best mind games on you. I hate that there are eight different prices on every product. I hate that when I tell the sales associate that I don't need any bells and whistles, that I only use my phone to talk to people, and even do that at a bare minimum, they look at me as if I just stepped out of one of those caveman commercials. Because clearly, every person needs V-cast, whatever the heck that is, and a travel charger and the cable to make your phone into a portable modem for your laptop and don't forget the blue tooth...don't even get me started on you weirdos who use the blue tooth.

I also hate that we pay a hefty chunk of money every month to the awful pariah who own the cell phone store for a service that has given me eight thousand problems and that I hate hate hate in the first place. So, I suppose it's a given that it wasn't a pleasant experience for me, this trip to the cell phone store.

In short, the moral of the story is that I left the cell phone store without a cell phone because of the sheer disgust I felt with the whole process of tom-foolery that abounds there. I refuse to be brainwashed into another two year contract, which they weren't even going to tell me about because, for the love of God, why would anyone ever want to Stop!....Using!....their Cell Phone!!!!! I also refuse to pay the super-exorbitant price that a cell phone costs when you refuse to extend your contract. And so, my friends, for the next 10 months until the contract I was previously suckered into ends, I will pay for a service that I have no cell phone to utilize. If you want to talk to me you'll have to call Ben's cell phone. Do you feel the outrage seeping from the computer screen?!?

On a far less awful note, in fact, on a very pleasant note, we had our second prenatal appointment today and worm's heart is still beating away in there. I haven't felt worm move as much these last couple weeks, and I think there's a very good reason for that. Worm used to be sort of squished down in the left side of my pelvis, but now worm has pushed it's little habitat up into the belly where there is plenty more room to move freely for the time being. Nevertheless, it was good to hear worm's heart and know that the lack of felt movement does not mean that the movement has stopped. All my blood tests came out splendid, and our next appointment is on March 19th. It will be followed by a TRIP TO COLORADO!!! on the 20th. We are meeting my sister-in-law and her family out there for a week of fun times. We'll be there over my 26th (gulp, I'm getting old!) birthday, and I'm very excited to have a last hurrah trip before the worm shakes life up for us. Please don't remind me that I should be buying diapers, car seats and tiny swings with that money. I'm feeling guilty enough!

Yum

A view of the tiny baby cupcakes I made to take to class tomorrow and officially announce to the world that we are expecting a worm. The picture doesn't really do them justice as you can't see their cute little squat bodies all wrapped up in Valentine's wrappers. I made about a million of them (or maybe only 130 or so) and it took me a thousand years to put them all together, but man are they tasty and cute!

Also, does anyone know how to put a picture anywhere besides the top of the post? This is really driving me nuts...

Priorities

It's official. The worm is the new proud owner of a pair of cowboy boots. We made the mistake of popping into the Gymboree store at our local mall and Ben refused to leave without purchasing some darn cute cowboy boots. That's right worm, your papa's first purchase for you is a pair of cowboy boots. How's that for priorities!

Let it be known that your mama's first purchase for you was an awesome book called The Read Aloud Handbook. Those of you who are parents, or soon to be, should definitely consider owning it.

So there you have it...a look into our future daily lives. Me and worm sitting in a rocking chair calmly reading books and Ben and worm running around like hooligans playing cowboys and Indians. How's that for idyllic?

I'm Sorry Worm

...that your mama can't relax and just enjoy the thought of you, the possibilities of you and the amazing experiences you will bring to her life.

I'm sorry that she's too caught up in her own world and worried about what she's going to have to give up and who she's going to offend. I'm sorry that she can't even imagine a definition of herself that allows you to be the most important aspect of it, and that she sometimes acts like her life and accomplishments are more important than your well-being. I'm sorry that she's struggling with this transition from just plain Sam into somebody's mama.

I'm sorry that she feeds you M&M's and soda pop instead of vegetables and water, and that she doesn't exercise enough and that she's still trying to hide your existence from some "important" people.

I'm sorry worm...

...but I promise that her priorities are shifting. That she's starting to think more like a mama whose worm's well-being is far more important than her own accomplishments. It's just hard to shift almost 26 years of just plain Sam thoughts into the thoughts of somebody's mama.

But I promise you worm, that your mama's trying.

The Worm Squirm

This worm is movin' folks.

The first time I felt it was on January 23rd. I had just turned 11 weeks pregnant and I was wearing pants that were particularly constricting. At first, I thought I must be imagining things, but then I felt it again...same feeling, same spot. Since that day I've experienced it several times more. Nothing terribly consistent, but always the same feeling and usually in the same area (which just happens to be the area where the midwife located the heartbeat at our first appointment a couple weeks ago.) It feels decidedly squirmy. Like there's a worm wriggling in there or a fish flopping around. It is a gross motor movement, like the kid is turning somersaults gleefully, not like an elbow or a kick.

Now, I've read and been told that women do not typically feel their babies moving until they are around 16-20 weeks pregnant. Usually closer to 16 weeks if they've had the opportunity to experience it before and later on if they are first-timers. So, perhaps I'm just a crazy lady.

Go ahead and try to convince me that it's just gas, but I'm not buying it.