Week 19, which means we are one week away from being at the halfway mark.
We= me, the mouse in my pocket, the baby. That or I like everyone to feel included.
This past weekend I had a big first which was flying while pregnant. My Mom met me in Chicago and we flew to Virginia together, and then on Sunday I flew back to Chicago with both of my parents. (Having a Dad who is an airline pilot means that your flight itineraries make sense to no one but you.) I pretty much forgot I was pregnant until I had my bag over my head as I shoved it into the overhead bin and my Mom yelled from behind that I needed to put that bag down immediately. I sort of forgot that I was not supposed to lift heavy things and that my bag is actually framed out in steel, which means it is very, very sturdy (you can drop it off of a jetway and it is going to survive!) but it is also very, very heavy.
From there on out my Mom or Dad insisted on carrying my bag up or down stairs and my Dad put it into overhead bins for me. Flying with parents, plus one. They also made me sit in the middle seat on our flight back to Chicago, which is minus seventy million points, give or take. I also shared a hotel room with my parents which, hahahahahahaha, so funny. (Lest you try to read between the lines, B was at another wedding that weekend because every year without fail, two really close friends get married on the same Saturday. We have begun taking the divide and conquer approach.) The wedding was lovely and awesome and I watched my best friend since age 2 get married. When we were three we used a box of Crayola crayons to destroy her room in a manner that can only be described as catastrophic, so obviously my parents and I put a box of 64 crayons on the gift table, festively attired with a large white bow. Best wedding gift ever!
This weekend marked a first as well, strangers noticing and commenting on the fact that I was pregnant. WEIRD. That is all I have to say about that. Until I’m pregnant enough for people to give me their seat on public transportation (which, in Chicago means never, and hey, thats is ok, if I can’t stand for the ride I should probably just take a cab) I don’t really feel like I’m that pregnant, so to have others notice was startling to say the least.
What? You can see this thing?
I also found a solution to my maternity attire/wedding weekend problem, which was to wear the blue dress that has now been dubbed the Sisterhood of the Traveling dress, generously loaned to me by Kate. I won’t lie, every pregnant woman should own this dress or have a chance to wear it. (Apologies for over sharing this photo but I haven’t worn real clothes/anything but jeans and yoga pants since my appendix so I felt compelled to prove that I can still put on high heels and lipstick when the time is right.)
Anyway. This week marks the big ultrasound and I’m excited to get a peek at the baby even if we are not finding out if it is a boy or a girl. I still sometimes forget I’m pregnant (huh? what do you mean I can’t have a glass of champagne to toast with, OH RIGHT, DAMN) so getting to actually see the baby helps remind me that this is in fact really happening. Also: as it turns out, once it is actually your baby, the ultrasound images are way less weird and way more sweet. Don’t worry, I still don’t plan on subjecting any of you to those photos.
In summary: same old same old, keep on keeping on. Another week down, which means no, we still have not begun cleaning out the guest bedroom, not one bit. Plenty of time, right? Right.