Week thirty-eight

This week Mom came to visit and went with us to our ultrasound on Monday and then our midwife visit on Tuesday. The ultrasound went well and things are still looking good. The darling progeny’s growth is right on track (he’s leek sized!) and they estimated his weight at 7 pounds, 10 ounces. Cord and placenta are still functioning well, heart rate is good, all his parts seem to be there (especially his ginormous cash and prizes, which the techs loooove to point out ceremoniously every time we get a chance to look). Mom was all gushy with grandmotherly love and I was enjoying how the tech didn’t have to smash my insides all to hell to get decent images like they did when baby boy was the size of a lemon.

The midwife visit also went well — my vitals are good and the baby’s heartbeat is strong — and we got to leave the office with our inflatable pool and liner and disposable skimmer. I explained to Ray that that’s not for fish. Hyuk.

I got the OK to go ahead and start with the evening primrose capsules, so I am adding that to my prenatal + fish oil + garlic + vegetable supplement + probiotic + fruit supplement + Vitamin D regimen. Mmm, pills.

After the midwife visit, we took Mom to eat at Abyssinia, because I want her to be able to brag to my dad that she ate Ethiopian food and lived to tell about it. (Can I just make an aside about how great the inside of Abyssinia is looking these days? I am digging the new wall color and new bar area and general layout, although it was hot as a sweat lodge in there during lunch.) Mom seemed to enjoy it well enough, I think.

Wednesday we had a meet ‘n’ greet with our prospective pediatrician, Dr. Hanson at Laurelwood. He was super nice and personable. Ray and I both were really impressed with his demeanor and approach to his practice. He comes highly recommended by several people I trust, so I’m not surprised. I’m very grateful that we’re not having to shop around too much for a doctor we like.

Things are shaping up at home, little by little. I’m getting nesting urges in fits and starts and getting weepy when I can’t get it all done the way I want to. Bending and squatting are tough and my back and hips start to hurt after a little bit of work but we’re making good progress, I think. My little house is teeming with so much crap, I feel sort of suffocated by it and can’t figure out where to put things.

I took my computer in to work to have it set up to work from home when I transition back in a few months. And I’ve started cleaning out my desk. Nine more workdays left. I’m already sad about how quickly I know my three months away are going to pass. Oh, to be able to spend my child’s entire first year with him. I hate that that is a luxury in this, the wealthiest nation on the planet.

I’m still feeling pretty good, although I’m getting slower and slower and, some days, super achey in the pelvis/hip region. I finally had someone make a “You’re about to pop, ain’t ya?!” comment to me the other day. Total stranger I passed in the lobby while leaving work. It was amusing. “Getting there!” was all I could muster.

So, our glimpse inside on Monday showed that Le Leek had his arm up near his face, sorta sucking on his wrist. WHICH WE HAVE TOTALLY CAUGHT HIM DOING BEFORE! Behold! (Monday is on the left, 22 weeks is on the right.)

And while I find that particular pose to be devastatingly adorable — I have referred to my son as a caped crusader because of it — I am really hoping that when the time comes for him to shoot down the birth canal, he gets that hand away from his face and makes himself as sleek and svelte as he possibly can. Otherwise, he is going to TEAR MY JUNK UP trying to make an exit like that. (Google “compound presentation” if you need details.) Also, I don’t want his arm to get hurt, even if I think it’s sweet that he wants to fly out of me like Superman.