Mama & Papa

Here we are at 21w3d.

What I'm Craving As Of Late

I am still feeling great with lots of energy and a positive attitude.

Things that I have been craving lately:

Cinnamon. Even the smell.

Skirts. I can't bear to wear pants in this heat.

Coffee. With cream.

Fruit. I can't get enough!

Yoga.

Citrus. Especially lemon!

But please don't think that I'm some kooky healthy nut. What I have neglected to post is the fact that I sometimes take the elevator up three floors instead of taking the stairs, eat a bag of Old Dutch Arriba chips once in a while, and probably eat way more cheese than I should.

Here s/he is!

There s/he is. Perfectly healthy!

Soundwaves

The big ultrasound is scheduled for this morning. We don't intend to discover whether we're having a daughter or a son until the moment the little one is delivered into our arms.

I think the only part of carrying this child that has given me nightmares or trouble is the ultrasound preparation. Before I was pregnant, I could easily go to the bathroom two or three times an hour. Now imagine a uterus pushed up against a bladder. Now imagine drinking one litre of water and being told you're not permitted to pee for at least two hours. Now imagine getting on a bus being driven down a bumpy, pot-holey, in-construction road. Now imagine sitting in the waiting room, legs crossed, feet bopping up and down, silently cursing the two receptionists are completely ignorant of your plight while they log into Facebook and speak loudly about who drank too much last night and "Oh my gawd! He did not!!"

Only 80 minutes left!

AN INFANT PONDERS THE TABULA RASA.
BY KENT WOODYARD
- - - -
Gaze upon my beauty and tremble, oh fallen humanity! Look down on my naked form writhing in this sink you call a bathtub and ponder my immeasurable capacity for good or evil. I am all that you are not, all that you once were, and all that you most fear. I am the beatific, unspoiled future of the human race, and you are rightly terrified in my presence. I realize you don't often encounter a pure potentiality that has yet to be actualized by education and sensory stimuli, and your offerings of many-colored rattles, things to suck on, and scented wipes for my unmentionable areas are received with gratitude. However, your attempts to equip me with empirical familiarity with the objects of this world are not appreciated and I ask that you cease and desist posthaste!
You think I don't see what you're doing? You desire for me to learn. You fill my virgin mind with tales of an intrepid tank engine and a pair of vaguely ethnic child-explorers with the hopes that my observations will lead to prepositional statements, which when compounded will lead to further abstract concepts.
I won't stand for it!
Even as we speak, you are clumsily chiseling away at the blank tablet of my mind. You listen to Glenn Beck while squiring me about town on a million frivolous errands. You watch that insufferable tease, Nancy Grace, during my evening meals. You and your bearded companion season your arguments with untenable systems of ethics and jurisprudence. And I, lacking the motor skills necessary for independent locomotion or remote control operation, am forced to lie on my binky while all manner of falsehoods and Dr. Phil-isms irreparably mar my latent intellect. Truly, it is one of the great injustices of the universe that unblemished human minds are left in the care of community college educated Gilmore Girls fans.
Do me a favor: keep your Middle American values and collection of Thomas Kinkade knockoffs to yourself. Please, spare me your Reaganite political leanings and affinity for Melissa Etheridge. I desire to experience stimuli pure and unbiased. I have my preexisting familiarity with space and time. What need have I for numbers, colors, letters, or late 1980s fem-rock?
Thanks but no thanks, tits.
I have no interest in that a posteriori knowledge you're peddling, and neither Baby Einstein nor the curiously effeminate residents of Sesame Street will convince me otherwise. I am now as I always desire to be: a kinetic force of limitless potential.
Now if we're quite finished, it appears the force of my indignation has caused me to soil myself. Please direct your full attention to my hindquarters.

(McSweeney's)

19 weeks

*photo by Jana Frandsen of Wink Photography

Nineteen weeks and I am still feeling fine.

We had our first Centering Pregnancy class and it went well. My fundal height is measuring at 22 rather than 18, but the midwife is not concerned as this is common and tends to even out towards the end (I hope!). The mister heard the baby's heartbeat for the first time during our one-on-one time with the midwife, and it just squeezed my heart watching him listening to the little one inside me.

Over the long weekend, I was lucky enough to have a Girls' Weekend in Toronto. We ate too much and laughed too much. I even managed to stay up until after midnight most nights.

Happy Mother's Day!