Welcome to your seventh month! said the weekly update email I get from Today's Parent. Um? Holy shit. Seventh month sounds REALLY far along, doesn't it?
I guess I should stop telling people that I'm just over halfway done.
And I think my head exploded in little stress-bits all over the place thinking of all the project deadlines I have approaching at work, and all the things I wanted to get done at home before I got "too far along".
Shitty shit shit...
In other news - sprog is good. Apparently has "...practically doubled her weight in the last four weeks and her brain tissue has begun to increase and its signature folds and grooves are now taking shape." (Don't get excited - that's Today's Parent using the gender specific verbiage. They switch it up every week.)
He/she is also in breech position currently, according to the midwife appointment I had on Monday. Which isn't anything to worry about right now - plenty of movement will (should) happen before d-day. But does have the lovely benefit of feeling like someone is tap dancing on my bladder all day and all night long. Because if you haven't felt an alien inside of you kicking at your internal organs, then you really just haven't lived. LOVELY, I tell you.
I also got a bit of clarification on the iron supplement thing. Apparently I'm supposed to be taking 3 pills a day - not just the one. And should feel "marked improvement in my energy levels" within a week. I thought I was feeling better, but apparently admitting I go to bed around 9pm every night is not the energy levels she was hoping for.
That's all I've got. Did this update sound whiny again? I had someone tell me recently that it didn't sound like I was "enjoying" pregnancy this time around a little while ago and it made me feel guilty. And then indignant. And of course, a wee bit defensive.
To set the record straight - it's not as easy as it was the first time. I'm more tired. I was sicker (and for longer) than the first time. But I'm also older and without the ability to just lay on the couch, unencumbered with responsibilities, for hours on end, all weekend long (omg doesn't that sound blissful?). So.... yeah. It's not horrible. But it is harder.
So, if I sound a little less than rosy-peaches-and-cream-sunshiny-goodness? Well, have you met me? I put the snuh in SNARK.
And that's on a good day.