On learning to sleep through kicks and how I'm just as likely to cry over…
This week seems to be the week of “popping out”. My stomach has reached a point in which I can’t really tell it’s growing until I try to put on a shirt that fit a couple of weeks ago and suddenly it’s stretching to the max. I’ve taken to temporarily removing all clothes that no longer fit from my closet to avoid confusion and frustration when trying to find something to wear.
This week holds the new record for the highest number of people to comment “wow, you have really popped out” or similar variations of that statement in one day… 9. I swear that maternity clothes are designed to make the bump look bigger, I don’t get these comments when I wear the few pre-pregnancy shirts that still fit.
Here are pictures of week 21 bump, we haven’t taken any of week 22 yet.
And my new favorite shirt:
There is actually one person that has touched my bump and lived to tell the story. She caught me at a good time, was very polite about it and asked for permission without pressure. I still don’t recommend people try this.
Yesterday marked the first day where Baby Fox’s kicks could not only be felt but also seen from the outside. After getting over the whole similarity to alien/monster horror movies it was actually pretty cool. Cheekie bird didn’t happen to agree though as he was hanging out on my bump when this happened and Baby Fox kicked directly under his foot. It was so funny, lol. Although Cheekie bird didn’t agree with the funny part.
These kicks are a welcome change from the past week or so where Baby Fox alternated between tap dancing on my cervix (super weird feeling) to using my bladder as a trampoline (not fun when out and about and out of sight of the nearest bathroom).
I don’t understand why people are so focused and obsessed with due dates. Yesterday I had a semi-stranger at work interrupt from across the break room a conversation that I was having with my husband to ask “how many months you have left before baby?”. Huh? First, to simplify my life I keep track of weeks, I can’t easily tell you off the top of my head how many months along I am because that requires me pausing for some quick math. Secondly, I’m measuring cooking time so far, not time left on the oven timer.
Yes, I tend to be extremely OCD about scheduling and punctuality in regular life but refuse to hold baby Fox to that standard, he/she will show up when he/she is ready and other than hoping for a fully baked bun I don’t plan to impose any limitations as to the when it happens.
As you all know, for years I’ve designed and printed custom shirts, I’m very close to creating a Bump FAQ shirt similar to this:
My placenta brain has led to many funny situations but also some slightly frustrating ones. I had ordered several books online and one of them was supposed to be an early Father’s Day surprise gift for Daddy Fox. I had been wanting to get him this book for a while:
I had a great plan in my brain but completely f-ed up the execution. As I received the box from Amazon with a variety of books I’m excitedly talking to him about what I plan to read next, he’s standing right in front of me as I open the box, completely oblivious to the fact that his present is part of that shipment and of course, which book is on top? you guessed it!
He claims that I could have been smooth about it and he wouldn’t have noticed but I didn’t trust myself to keep a poker face on at the sudden discovery of my faux-pas. So I just gave him the book on the spot and gave up hope for the romantic surprise. And what does he do? He reads the book to me knowing that I would cry. And what do I do? yep, I cried.