I popped between 20 and 22 weeks this time around, just like I did with Will. And when I pop...well, let's just say my arms and lower body are NOT spared any indignity.
The baby was sleeping during our last check-up, so his heart rate was at a nicely paced 146 bpm. This boy has a more typical sleep pattern than his older brother--he sleeps all day, starts rolling around in the late afternoon, and saves his hearty kicks and punches for the evening...and all through the night. Although Will was incredibly rowdy in utero, I don't think I felt this banged up so early in the process during that pregnancy. This time, this early, is still really HURTS.
When I mentioned this to my beloved OB, she shook her head at me and said, "You don't have any muscles left there, Bubba! What you felt at 30 weeks last time you're feeling now instead." Charming.
In other news, Will and I have been on a pleasant fall schedule consisting of running to Starbucks in the morning after (his) breakfast--I treat myself to a venti decaf mocha and then complain about how I've "popped" as if it has nothing to do with my eating habits, that's clever!--taking an inconsistently timed but often long-ish nap, and then seeing our friends, whether at playgroup, signing/music class, or a trip to the park.
[Whew, that was a long sentence.]
Anyway, it's been great is what I'm trying to say, and even though I'm exhausted at the end of each and every day--if you couldn't tell by this haphazard post--Will and I have never had more fun together. The whole thing makes me very optimistic about adding another person to the family in four months. (Let's hope that attitude lasts.)