22 Weeks And Growing

I haven't really written much about my pregnancy, have I? There was the announcement post at 8 weeks, and then the "I'm scared to have this baby" post, which by the way, every bit of doubt that I once had has now disappeared (thank you all for your amazing support through my weeks of worry), and then... well that's it, isn't it?

Up until the past couple of weeks, things have been very surreal. Once my hormones calmed down and the morning sickness leveled off, I sort of fell into a comfortable day to day routine, one that sort of hid my pregnancy from me. It wasn't until I started to feel the kicks, that awareness of the growing bean in my belly returned to me.

I've stopped running- the last time I went for a run was back in January when Christopher and I did the Bull Run together. I walk instead, and I walk often. I walk pushing 90 pounds of kid in my neighbors borrowed double stroller (we have yet to get one of our own), or I walk with a 30 pound little one strapped to my back in the ERGO. I make the most out of my walks, and while I miss the thrill of running, walking is treating me and my belly well.

I've stopped eating meat- I'm not calling myself vegetarian, but I just can't seem to stomach it the way I could before. Sometimes I'll have a bite of canned chicken breast or spam, because those are the only things that seem to sit well upon request, but for the most part, this Mama has gone meat free.

I sleep in a nest of pillows- one under my head (of course), one under my belly, one under my back, and one in between my legs. If even one of these cushions should go missing... all hell will break loose, and you should prepare yourselves.

Other than the above things, you really might not even know I was pregnant. I've handled myself much better this time around than I did with the last two. I keep myself busy (or my family keeps me busy, however you want to look at it, hee hee), and I keep the majority of my complaints to myself (or I unload them on Twitter, sorry tweeps... I really just said tweeps, didn't I?). Its been a good pregnancy for me.

(oh hello there, cute little skull face baby)
We went in to the doctors office today, and had our 4th ultrasound. Our hopes weren't set too high, so when The Bean kept itself snuggled up tightly in the lower half of my uterus, not sharing its gender with us, we weren't too let down. With our previous pregnancies, the anticipation was a form of torture. I had to know. With Elie, we found out right away. With Charlie, not until 30 weeks. This time around though- I'm perfectly content not knowing.

(ok that looks a little bit more like a baby)
Think I can hold out and wait until the very end to find out the sex? Right now, while I'm in a good mood and loving the wonder, I feel like I can. But later on, while I'm wanting to shop for little outfits and organize our closet, I might not be so open to the idea, haha.

After I scanned in today's ultrasound pictures, I thought maybe I should document my tummy bump as well. I haven't taken very many pictures of myself lately, pregnancy related self confidence body image issues and whatnot, but this post wouldn't really be complete without a self portrait, would it?

I picked up my camera and headed into the downstairs bathroom, the same place that I took all of my self portraits when I was pregnant with Charlie, and snapped about 4 pictures. I wasn't prepared, having just gone on a 2 or 3 mile walk with a hefty load of sleeping baby strapped to my back, no makeup, sweaty hair- who cares. This is me on a regular basis. This is what I'd look like if you bumped into me at the grocery store.


And it wasn't until I uploaded this picture, that I realized I might actually look pregnant, and not just like I've been eating an entire box of cookies to myself every day for the last few months.

My weight has been an issue. If you've been following my blog for awhile now, you've probably read about my battles with the bulge, and are aware of my recent fitness wins. Watching the scale creep back up, is difficult. I take deep breaths, remind myself that after my healthy child is born and I'm all healed from my surgery, I'll be able to get back to working on my body. Whats my hurry, anyways? I'm going to put on weight, I'm going to swell on warm days (have you all seen my infamous picture of fat foot??), and in another month or two, I'm going to look like a pale and prettier version of Shrek. Its ok. <---- as I nervously try to convince myself thats its really ok.

Weight issues aside, because really, when it comes to the overall picture, they're nothing, and I'm very happy with how everything is going. I often catch myself day dreaming about our future, repeating the names that we've picked out in my head, and talking to the babies about their future baby brother or sister. I am blessed.