Making a Baby: Week 24

Look at me and my bad self, actually posting a weekly update on time!

Week 24 wasn't too bad. We started out with a OB visit where my fundal height was estimated at 26.5 cm*. The "acceptable range" for someone who is 24 weeks pregnant is 18-26 cm. That means that me, a tiny person, has a uterus that is literally taking up the majority of my torso. Already. Before I've even hit the third trimester. Duuuude, I am going to be so screwed.

*Random side note: spell check wants me to change fundal to fungal...that would certainly be grounds for a doctor's visit!

Of course, I went home and began researching the relationship between fundal height and baby size. [Insert big sigh of relief] To sum up, I shouldn't be worried about having to birth a Goliath. However, this does go a long way toward explaining the horrible heartburn I get.

Another fun pregnancy symptom: rib pain. In case you didn't already know, pregnant women's ribs expand so that all those displaced organs can be shoved up and out of the way of the giant uterus. I'm guessing that my extra giant uterus (which may soon make its own appearance in a monster movie) has sped up this rib expansion and the result is...unpleasant. Also, if I run up the stairs, or even go up them at a moderate pace, I get winded because my displaced organs are squashing my lungs. Ah, the miracle of life and all that crap.

Oh yeah! Something else that was revealed at my OB appointment. So, in the first 20 weeks I gained 7.5 lbs. Then, in the next 4 weeks, I gained 7.5 lbs! The fuck!?! The OB nurse was like, "That's great!" and that puts you "right on track." Lies! If I'm supposed to gain 25 lbs. total, and I've gained 15 lbs. by 24 weeks, half of those pounds in only a 4 week period, and I have 16 weeks to go...you don't have to be a mathematician to understand that there is something wrong here. Especially when the major weight gain happens in the third trimester.

So, I should probably stop eating chocolate all the time. Which I will start doing as soon as I finish that box of chocolates in the pantry and the raisinetts I bought over the weekend. Probably.

Okay, so that's that. Now, behold, the giant belly full of  baby:

Once again barefoot and pregnant.

And, just to prove that I don't always wear the same pants, or run around barefoot, here is a picture, taken only a few days before:

With makeup! And fancy clothes! And cleavage that could suck you in like a black hole! This pic was taken on Valentine's Day. Our last without parental responsibility for the next umpteen billion years. So, of course the little guy decided to wake up early and kick the crap out of me throughout the whole dinner. Kids.