Whoa. It’s been a week.
I made the mistake of booking three trainings in three days in a city almost two hours from my office. I did this two months ago, when such a schedule would’ve been a little frustrating, but didn’t realize that I would be sneaking into the part of my pregnancy where it would exhaust me deeply. Added to this was another day long training last Friday, and two days of singing holiday concerts while standing. Basically, I’ve been performing (in one way or another) 6 days in a row, which does not a pleasant pregnant introvert make. And then, of course, there’s the swelling that comes from too much standing that has left my already kind of big hands and feet looking downright sausage like and making wearing my wedding ring something I consider on a day by day basis.
Tomorrow marks 24 weeks – a big deal, I think? 6 months (or 5.5, depending on how you’re counting) and the start of what folks call ‘fetal viability’ (although I have a lot of thoughts about why this cut off exists and, more importantly, I would really really really like seafoam to stay put for another 16 weeks.) Still, it’s a milestone, and those are important. It also means the third trimester is just around the corner. January 1st, to be precise (going by fetal development trimesters.) I am definitely beginning to feel like I’m almost to the pinnacle of the hill that this roller coaster is going to race down very, very soon.
In the last few weeks, three separate couples have contacted me for information about getting knocked up while queer. I’ve sent some of them here for a more complete recounting of our saga (hey, y’all!) and have answered questions via e-mail and in person. I’m happy to do it; it means that we might have a few more local queer parent friends soon and I am a wholehearted believer in the power of sharing stories and learning from communities of people with similar experiences. It’s hard, though, because our story is so much more complicated than I ever imagined it will be. I’m happy to talk about how we negotiated having a known donor (both legally and emotionally), and how we navigated a heavily medical experience when we intended do go DIY from the start. There have been times when I wish we would have kept things to ourselves more, but ultimately I’m glad we’ve been so open about our experience, because I think sharing stories brings comfort. Obviously, this is why I am so attracted to this community of blogs – because I find peace and comfort and relationships in sharing my story and reading others. But I think being so open, when others often are not, also puts us in the position of feeling like we need to be somehow representative or to make the experience appealing for others. That’s all internal, of course, but it does become a different dynamic when people I know (well or not) are hearing this story, instead of people who I have grown to know through this shared experience.
In other pregnancy news . . .
I bought some clothes from ebay, which I think is both awesome and kind of not ideal. On the one hand, I got about 12 shirts for 10 bucks. On the other hand, the lot was marked XL and a medium somehow also showed up, and there’s at least one shirt that I would never, ever, under threat, wear . . .but still, not a bad deal. The shirt I’m wearing above (which feels so maternity, with the bow and the empire waistline and all) is one of my ebay scores, and I love it so . . .I would still recommend it, especially if you don’t wanna spend a lot of cash on new clothes and don’t have a good maternity resale store (we do, but they didn’t have a lot in my size).
La finally felt Seafoam kick from the outside! Last Friday, he was giving me some good big thumps, and I felt him when I put my hand on my belly . . .La wasn’t home, so I tried to keep him at it for a bit, but no dice. For the rest of the weekend, every time he started moving, I grabbed her hand and held it there. It ended anticlimactically, with her hand awkwardly on my belly for too long . . .until Sunday night! He gave the hardest whack to my lower abdomen, and she felt it! His favorite move continues to be the cervix punch, which doesn’t hurt but is kind of uncomfortable. But I can also feel the movement getting a bit higher up as well. This makes sense as, apparently, my uterus is now the size of a soccer ball (!?!)
Bending over is becoming increasingly out of my range of ability. Shaving my legs? Forget it. Until La gets me a shower stool, I’m going hairy. The carpel tunnel continues, and the heartburn has picked up a notch, but really, things aren’t too bad.
We signed up for our hypnobabies class (starts in January!) and we are giving our doula her deposit tonight! Seems like there might be a baby here kinda soon. shit.