Email 3
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SUBJECT: Pregnancy Update #3
Hello again friends and family!
I am now at Week 18 of my pregnancy. Let's get down to it by first seeing what the experts are saying at this stage in the game.
Maureen the Maestro is telling me I can feel the baby move (no kidding! See below ...), and that if I was old enough I'd be having amniocentesis tests. (Phew for being 25!) Baby is basically killing the time by doing aqua aerobics in there.
Super Susan lets me know that I'll be having trouble sleeping, and I should buy about 17 pillows (well, if I suffocate to death at least I'll be comfortable). The baby is about 20 cm long and is already sucking it's thumb (well, we all have our little habits).
On the subject of my well meaning 'gurus', I did finally take their advice and went out and bought a 'comfortable, well fitting bra), which I basically took to mean 'the next size up'. Why bother spending too much money as my glorious cleavage will disappear once I've stopped breastfeeding. Actually, I don't bother spending that much money on them anyway - I don't know whey they even BOTHER making them in my size. To make me fell better I suppose
The baby is kicking now, and generally gives me a good kick in the guts when it's time for something to eat. Or when he wants the cat to get off me. Or when he's bored. Or whenever, whatever! He kicks a lot when he hears his father laugh, so that's pretty groovy. Obviously they're not big kicks yet, but he still manages to stick a head or leg somewhere uncomfortable enough for me to feel it.
By the way, I'm not giving away the sex by referring to the baby as 'he'. Basically I'm lazy, and if I can get away with writing one less letter, I will. Hey, I'm pregnant!
I met my new doctor the other day, and he was pretty cool. Scarily enough, he has the same type of humour as I do (I didn't think they would let people like that do medicine), and so appreciated my sarcastic whinges. He was happy to inform me that my mother WAS right about being bigger in the second pregnancy, and that no I wasn't having twins. He also told me that I can't overdose on antacids, so that's also a relief as I've been taking thousands to keep the heartburn at bay. I returned the favour by assuring him that I could keep him in constant supply of wee and that, in point of fact, if weeing in cups were an Olympic event, they could just give em the gold medal now. Doctors seem not to be able to get enough of pregnant women's wee. I'm sure there's a support group for it somewhere in the world.
He also took pleasure in informing me that I STILL don't have to have my ultrasound until next week. Last time I was pregnant, they made me have one straight away, but that's all changed now as having it later gives more details. I guess they think also that they are doing us a favour by putting it off, when really it's just prolonging the inevitable and dreading for even longer the horrid "You're not allowed to wee for an hour!" bit. Man, "wee here", "don't wee there" - what do they think we are?! I suggested that perhaps we wait even longer, and that the baby can do it himself when he's born. That's a no-go apparently.
I've bought my second pregnancy magazine, and that's quite enough now I think. I seem to attract birth stories from people on the street, so there's no need to pay for them. And I'm a bit sick of looking at lovely, leggy, perfect skinned, blonde models in their designer gym wear happily smiling through all sorts of exercises I don't even bother doing when I'm NOT pregnant. Go away. Where are all the hormonal women standing around eating Tim Tams in their dressing gowns, cringing about all their newly acquired zits and wondering whether it would be more satisfying to punch their husband now or later? None!
I've decided, having said that, to take antenatal yoga classes to strengthen my back as I had shocking back pain during labour with the first baby. Hopefully the relaxation techniques will help curb my homicidal tendencies. But then again, you can't help what you're born with ...
That's it for now. No doubt I will think of something incredibly witty to say as soon as I've sent this email. Blame it on the hormones!
© Cynthia M. Piromalli 2002
©2002 StoriesByEmail.com
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