Fetal math lessons and an extended car metaphor (Warning: contains moderate to high pregnant lady whining)

As of Saturday, I am officially six months pregnant!  Baby Boy Smith is due to arrive in about four months!  

And yes, if you are checking my math, I do realize that adds up to ten months, not nine.  A lot of people don't know (I certainly didn't) that they actually calculate your due date as being at 40 weeks of pregnancy, although they do start counting two weeks before you actually get pregnant.  It's hard to explain, but I can tell you that the whole counting system makes Jeromy very suspicious of the obstetrical profession.  

Anyway, here is what's going on with Doctor and I this point:


According to the books, our little guy now weighs between a pound and a pound and a half, and is almost a foot long!  It certainly feels like he's getting huge; I'll feel a kick on one side of my stomach right before a punch all the way on the other side.  And then, sometimes, I'd swear that he's just sitting in there head-butting me repeatedly.


At certain times of the day when Doctor is really going nutty, I can lay down and watch my stomach ripple and jump around, which on a Weird Scale of 1 through 10, rates about a 12.  I honestly had no idea you could ever see babies move this much...it looks like there is an alien trying to use my belly button as an escape hatch or something.  I try to make Jeromy sit and watch my stomach like it's better than an episode of 30 Rock, but apparently Doctor is a contrary little fetus, because he usually stops when he has an audience.  We are going to have to work on the whole "following parental requests" thing, stat.


 Also according to the books, Doctor should now be able to hear our voices and loud noises like the vacuum, the dog barking, etc.  I read that babies who hear classical music regularly while they are in the womb do better in math, so I'm trying to listen to the classical station for 30 or so minutes a day.  It's pretty boring, and I got a serious eye roll from Jeromy on this one, but whatever.  He's good at math so he doesn't really understand.  If a little less Lady Gaga and a little more Beethoven might prevent my kid from crying in his calculus professor's office every day for an entire semester like his mother did, then I'll give it a shot.

Apparently the food that I eat from now on will help shape Doctor's eating preferences, so we've been trying to eat important stuff like kale and mint cookies 'n cream ice cream and Indian food.  Let's hope it works; if this child doesn't like spicy stuff Jeromy will definitely spend the next 18 years giving him disappointed looks across the dinner table.


Now here's where some whining begins...

I have to say a little surprised by the overall discomfort of pregnancy.  I do feel a ton better now than I did during the first trimester, but I am not about to describe the second trimester as being "magical" like some women apparently do.  I was telling Jeromy yesterday that it's kind of like having your car in the shop for a while, and having to drive around a rental that sort of looks like your car, but is much less comfortable and doesn't work as well.  This rental car is slower and bigger and needs to pull over at rest stops a lot.  Plus you know deep down inside that when you get your car back, it's probably never going to be the same as it was before.  But I guess at least this rental car is taking me on a really exciting and important  journey.  I know that's completely cheesy, but it does make me feel a little better.


I do seem to be having a bit of "pregnancy brain,"  which is another weird symptom.  Apparently growing a human hogs a bunch of brain cells or something; I feel like I have developed A.D.D.  The other day I was in the middle of reaching to get something for Jeromy, and I got distracted by something else and picked it up instead.  Poor Jeromy thought I had just decided to ignore him.  I also keep turning the wrong way out of the neighborhood, so if I'm late meeting you somewhere, that's probably why.


 I also think I'm getting carpal tunnel syndrome.  Oh, but that couldn't possibly be pregnancy-related, you say?  But it is.  Supposedly 30% of women get it.  Again, NOT something that is well-publicized in any kind of "So You Want to Have a Baby" brochure.  Probably because it sucks.

My biggest problem (and my last complaint, I swear!) is the having-to-pee-ALL-THE-TIME thing.  It is RIDICULOUS.  Anytime I leave the house these days, I have to plan out my route and stops based on available bathrooms.  And, as some of you may know, I HATE using public restrooms.  Which makes it especially unfortunate that I've probably had to use more public bathrooms in the last month than I have in the last ten years combined.  I feel like I should probably write a book called The Pregnant Lady's Guide to Austin's Public Bathrooms ("Bee Caves Target: usually needs to be cleaned, frequently out of paper towels.  North Babies 'R Us: small, cramped, dirty floor, but does have yummy-smelling Bath & Body Works Soap.")
 

 ***Gems from Jeromy***

Today's Gem from Jeromy is in the form of a picture of my dignified husband modeling the hooded towel that Grandma and Grandpa Smith sent to Doctor:

Priceless, right?