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Belly too small, carseat too big?

Well crud.

Just got back from my 28-week checkup. Took the glucose test and I should hear back tomorrow or Friday if there’s a problem.

The sugar drink they give you isn’t as terrible as everyone says. Mine tasted like flat, extra-sweet Sprite. Not something I’d choose to wash down my dinner, but it was tolerable until the last few sips when I started to get a sugar overload!

Anyway, my belly is measuring 24 centimeters, and it should be closer to 28 right about now. It was 24 cm three weeks ago, and measured by the same midwife.

I’m pretty certain my belly has gotten bigger in that time. Maybe I’m a little wider? I dunno. I’ve also gained 3 lbs. since then. What’s going on?

I’m having an ultrasound on Tuesday to take measurements of the baby’s size. Hopefully he’s OK and just playing hide n’ seek or something.

She said that since I’m tall, there is more room for him to stretch out. Also, she said my ab muscles are still pretty strong, and they could be holding stuff in and make it a little harder for her to get an accurate measurement.

So anyway. I’m hoping he’s growing ok. Prayers appreciated.

And my car seat? Might be too big! Rear-facing, it’s a tight squeeze in the back. We can only move the front seats up so far, ya know? Knees in the dash = bad. I’m taking it to a certified car seat technician on Friday to have an expert tell me if it can safely fit, or if I need to find a smaller seat. Arg.

Belly too little, car too little. I’m a little frustrated.

28 weeks belly shots and our car seat!

Oh yay! Our car seat just arrived! Eeee! You can head over to my main blog to see how I got a great deal on it, if ya want.

“Bubs” is testing out the seat right now. He’s a little bear that we got as a baby gift. He’s also tested out our Snugli carrier.

“What’s the bear’s name?” I asked Shane.

“Bubs,” he said.

So, Bubs it is.

You’ll see that there’s a detachable cup holder on the seat. Will it hold a sippy cup in the future? I dunno. If I was a baby with a sippy cup in a car, I’d probably throw it instead of put it in a holder. So we’ll see.

Next up: Some belleh shots. I took these today and I’m 28 weeks on the dot. I’m in my third trimester and my seventh month.

Dirty bathroom mirror. Whatever. Like my hair/expression?

To the side:

And finally, dare I post a picture of my exposed belly? Oh, sure, why not? If you look closely, you’ll be able to see my first stretch mark. I’m sure there’s more where that came from! Also, I now have an “outie” belly button. Lol.

28 weeks and third trimester for sure!

Dear Baby,

I’m 28 weeks pregnant with you, which means you’re about 26 weeks (ish) old.  Even though we haven’t officially met yet, I feel like I’m starting to get to know you.

For instance, I know you have at least two hobbies: Wiggling and hiccups. One day not long ago, I counted three separate instances of you hiccuping. I hope it didn’t bother you too much. When I have hiccups, I just want to get rid of ‘em. Supposedly, you having hiccups is a sign of your maturing nervous system and it’s a good thing.

By the way, my dad (your grandpa! Lol! Whoa, nelly) made up a song about hiccups, and he would sing it to my sister and I. We’ll sing it to you, too.

You seem coziest in my lower abdomen, usually way below my popped-out bellybutton. Yet, you have plenty of room to stretch out if you want. Sometimes, I feel you moving at my sides. Other times, you’re trying to tickle my ribs. I guess if you were mostly higher up, it might be more uncomfortable for me to take deep breaths. Instead, I get to go to the bathroom all the time, since you’re squishin’ my bladder.

I’ve decided I’m your “apartment” since I take care of the exterior (me) and your own living quarters are pretty much up to you, unless you need special assistance. By the way, you’ll be getting your eviction notice pretty soon. In nine weeks, you’ll technically be full-term. In 12 weeks, I’ll be 40 weeks pregnant, or at my official due date. If you choose to be a little slow to vacate the premises, your landlady will probably try to encourage you to leave. Please move out when you’re fully ready, but I’d really appreciate it if you came on your own. I’d rather not be induced, if ya don’t mind.

You do owe rent, but it won’t be due for a few decades. You’ll pay that by taking care of your wifey while she’s growing your child. Yes, my dear, that’s what we call the circle of life *cue Lion King theme music*.

Your daddy and I are really starting to get your room put together, sort of. I ordered your crib and mattress this week. I hope it’s cozy for you. After a frustrating time trying to sort through the bajillion different varieties, we settled on a decent-looking crib that was highly ranked by Consumer Reports. Let’s hope it doesn’t get recalled. Seems like that happens a lot.

We got you a foam mattress that’s also supposedly one of the top behbeh mattress choices out there. It’s ultra-firm and it weighs like seven or eight pounds. That ought to be nice when it’s 2 a.m. and your diaper explodes and I need to put new sheets on the bed.

Also, I ordered your car seat. It seems cozy enough. In theory, it’ll last you for a few years.

I’ve got a closet full of clothes for you already. I’m keeping track of it all in a spreadsheet so I know when I have enough of certain items. No offense, but I’m expecting you to be a messy baby, with lots of spit-ups, barfs, diaper explosions, and general baby goo. Go ahead and surprise me and be a neat, un-gooey baby, but I’m not holding my breath (except for when I’m changing those stinky diapers!).

Because of that, I anticipate needing to change your clothes a few times per day. I want to have enough clothing to be able to do your laundry no more than twice per week. You see, our laundry facilities are two flights of stairs below me. Laundry is an unfun chore. If we had our own washer/dryers, I think we could get by with fewer clothes.

This week, your daddy and I will attend our first Bradley method childbirth class. We hope to meet some nice people and learn how to help you be born.

Also, I’ll take a test to make sure I don’t have gestational diabetes. I’m hoping I don’t, because if I have to go on a strict diet … oh man. For your sake, I’ll do it, but I’m not into diets.

Yay to us both for making it into the third trimester! This last bit is going to be something else. You’re going to grow a ton of that cute baby fat, and I’m going to plump up a lot. Watchoutnow.

See you soon! Be good.

Love,

Mama