28 weeks
It's the sort of day where I want to drive around with my windows down and listen to oldies.
My god, it's March, and it's Spring. That's an amazing thing up here.
Yesterday while attempting to be domestic, the broiler sparked out, causing temporary panic and a small flame in the oven. Luckily I was standing right there and had enough wits to yell for the fire extinguisher and turn off the heat. Before that it had been a fairly productive day, car seat safety class, grocery shopping and all. However, I have discovered that leaving the house for longer than the necessary half hour to bring the hubby to work makes me incredibly drained and unwilling/unable to do any chores around the house.
I had a doctor's appointment today and even though it was fairly uneventful -- minus a few stupid drivers both on the way there and the way back -- I came home and crashed until almost 3 pm. Baby is right on schedule, with a nice strong heartbeat and my fundus is measuring at 28 weeks. Doug had drawn a face on my belly last night that did not wash off in the shower, which startled my doctor into quite a bit of genuine laughter. I don't know if she was just having a bad day or was frazzled, but it was good to see her smile for once-- a real smile, not that little enigmatic half-lip curl that is permanently on her face.
It was my last appointment with this ob/gyn. Next month I'll be meeting the family practice doctor who I am blindly putting my trust into to deliver baby. I feel really good about moving to a different practice.
I had some very intense dreams last night, disturbing enough where I wanted to tell Doug but not wanting to tell him since they would probably disturb him too, perhaps more than they did me. It's strange how dreams don't censure themselves, yet they have a built-in censorship. I want to share them, but I don't want these words to be remembered by paper or let free into the interspace. Doug said to let them go, let them fade, but I don't want the possiblity of reaccurance...
Though perhaps if I were to dream this dream again, it would change, I would learn more and perhaps be more comfortable with the outcome. Hrm.
It's drive time.
My god, it's March, and it's Spring. That's an amazing thing up here.
Yesterday while attempting to be domestic, the broiler sparked out, causing temporary panic and a small flame in the oven. Luckily I was standing right there and had enough wits to yell for the fire extinguisher and turn off the heat. Before that it had been a fairly productive day, car seat safety class, grocery shopping and all. However, I have discovered that leaving the house for longer than the necessary half hour to bring the hubby to work makes me incredibly drained and unwilling/unable to do any chores around the house.
I had a doctor's appointment today and even though it was fairly uneventful -- minus a few stupid drivers both on the way there and the way back -- I came home and crashed until almost 3 pm. Baby is right on schedule, with a nice strong heartbeat and my fundus is measuring at 28 weeks. Doug had drawn a face on my belly last night that did not wash off in the shower, which startled my doctor into quite a bit of genuine laughter. I don't know if she was just having a bad day or was frazzled, but it was good to see her smile for once-- a real smile, not that little enigmatic half-lip curl that is permanently on her face.
It was my last appointment with this ob/gyn. Next month I'll be meeting the family practice doctor who I am blindly putting my trust into to deliver baby. I feel really good about moving to a different practice.
I had some very intense dreams last night, disturbing enough where I wanted to tell Doug but not wanting to tell him since they would probably disturb him too, perhaps more than they did me. It's strange how dreams don't censure themselves, yet they have a built-in censorship. I want to share them, but I don't want these words to be remembered by paper or let free into the interspace. Doug said to let them go, let them fade, but I don't want the possiblity of reaccurance...
Though perhaps if I were to dream this dream again, it would change, I would learn more and perhaps be more comfortable with the outcome. Hrm.
It's drive time.