Mini Bump (I Actually Have One Now)

It's not officially spring yet, but Justin and I started some much needed spring cleaning yesterday. Our dog, Drey, loves it when we clean. He tries to attack the broom, but abandons that effort rather quickly when he discovers the interesting pile that the broom creates. "Cool! I had no idea that all this stuff was here!" The vacuum, however, is his sworn enemy and he has apparent orders to attack on sight.

We have a very playful dog, and I think that may be to prepare us for a playful baby. It's gotten to the point where I just have to lay back and give my little belly a poke and it's like a pitter-pat party in there. The baby is only big enough for me to feel it moving, but not big enough yet for Justin to feel it or for it to cause me any pain. Haha. (Though, based on our size, I'm sure the day is coming.)

Speaking of size, I'm at 17 weeks and two days, though I don't think I look quite that far along. I started getting worried that something was wrong, so I did some research. Apparently, a long torso like mine is the cause, and I'll likely not ever look quite as far along as I am. This news was a little disappointing, but comforting in that it means I don't necessarily have an underdeveloped baby. BUT! Also apparently, I will probably be able to avoid a lot of heartburn, back pain, and general discomfort when sitting or sleeping in the later months. I'm holding onto the hope that these are true for me. I mean, a bump is kind of like a badge of honor, especially considering all the crap you have to endure. Without that... pregnancy can kinda suck.

But let's not pretend like I've had it rough. The allergy attack nearly killed me, many times, over the last 3ish weeks, but then everything froze again for a second, and here I am, alive and almost cough-free. Yay! I'm constantly tired, but I figure this is the standard of living now, so I don't bring it up much. No parent wants to hear an almost-parent talk about how tired they are. They either roll their eyes or they laugh, or they cry because they've been tired for years.

Maybe being awake for so many hours a day has made time move slower than the garbage truck that just passed by should've been going, because somehow we still haven't gotten to the ultrasound where we'll find out who's cookin' in there. We should know in a couple of weeks (or less) i.e. A MILLION YEARS. If it's a boy, I suppose that's a good thing, because we started reconsidering our choice for a boy name, and THAT was stressful. Basically, it needs to be a girl. The next baby can be a boy.

Got that, little one? Be a girl so the next occupant in there can be a boy.

PHEW. Glad we got that sorted out.