Monday, April 30, 2012

32 Weeks



Well, we've made it past the first "goal" the perinatologist gave me - if the baby is born now we shouldn't have to worry about any long term or permanent damage.  So yay! Other than that, this week has been nothing but complete crap, as the universe has seen fit to hobble me with all manner of miserable ailments on top of the general physical discomfort of being 8 months pregnant.  I've had a head cold for the entire week, and the resultant coughing I'm pretty sure has torn a muscle in my abdominals.  The constant peeing after sneezing and coughing was humiliating enough, but the searing pain any time I cough or blow my nose (and sometimes even just walking) is torture.  It's even tender to the touch, and aside from disliking the pain, I'm getting a little concerned about how much damage is going to be done by the time I finally give birth and the stress is taken off those muscles.  Also, Robitussin is completely disgusting and only somewhat effective.

The baby is moving a lot, squirming and writhing around in there, and I am visibly bigger than just last week.  I've had a few contractions, but never anything close together or regular, so just your normal run of the mill contractions I guess, although since my cervix has been changing so drastically, maybe run of the mill isn't quite the right description.  I wonder how thin my cervix is at this point, but I don't go back to the doctor for another week, and obviously I'm not equipped with my own at home trans-vaginal ultrasound so that question will probably go unanswered.  Makes coughing just that much more exciting though, since I never know if my water is going to break.

I know this entry isn't very exciting, and it's probably a bit heavy on TMI, but seriously, my physical condition is all I can think about.  Late pregnancy is such a fun time anyway, and throwing in this devilish cold and an unrelated (but just as delightful) chafing issue has made me very much the unhappy camper.  This is my very last time going through all this pregnancy stuff - is it that much to ask that it not be total hell?  No, peeing constantly and getting up five times a night and being unable to reach my toes are not exactly fun sensations, but I'd still like to savor the experience along with every last little kick and wiggle because this is my last chance.  The feeling of my stomach muscles ripping because I can't stop coughing is ruining that and making me very cranky.

Ok. Done whining now.  C'mon 34 weeks!

Thursday, April 26, 2012

It's About To Get Crazy

So, you may or may not know that I'm set to have a baby here at some point (ha), but what you don't know is that the chaos that will no doubt descend upon us as a result of this fourth child, is going to be even crazier than anticipated.  There has been a big reorganization at Brett's work, which has resulted in his schedule getting about a gazillion times busier, starting this month.  Right now he is scheduled to be out of town from May 3rd to the 15th, with only one day home.  And while he should be home for the rest of May, he has numerous commitments online and in the office so he won't be available to help me.  You know, if I go in to labor, lol.  It will be interesting to see how much time he will get to take off once the baby is actually here. If any.

He is also going to be playing golf in some sort of work league, too, because why not continue to add obligations outside the house?  This may or may not be on a weekly basis because the team rotates, but I can almost guarantee the timing will be extremely inconvenient because that how it worked out last year.  It's so helpful when he gets home from being out of town and immediately has to go play golf. 

And of course, his work schedule is only going to continue like this,or get even busier,  so I'll be adjusting to life with three kids and a newborn (OMG, I haven't had a baby in a really long time!) basically all on my own.  Which is great for my inner control freak because I LOVE me a routine and tight schedule and doing everything MY way, but man oh man I sure hope this baby is cooperative.

At least I won't have school drop offs and pick ups to deal with while I'm getting my feet under me - school ends in three weeks around here!  So insane.  I can't believe I'm going to have a first grader in a month.  And a four year old.  And a three year old.

And a baby.

*deep breath*


Wednesday, April 25, 2012

Waving The White Flag

Well, so much for potty training Sophie.  We sure gave it the old college try, but all I have to show for it are piles and piles of freshly laundered towels and mad skills at cleaning up poop filled underwear.  Not exactly the goal we were hoping to accomplish.  But the fact is, I think we have to concede that she is either truly not ready to potty train, or simply has no interest, which I guess is basically the same thing.

She just doesn't care.

She doesn't care if I praise her when she uses the potty.  She doesn't care if we scold her for having accidents.  And she doesn't care if her underwear is soaking wet and full of poop - she will just move away from the wet spot and go about her business.  And believe me, I'm not exaggerating - she will literally continue playing with all of her toys while wearing panties soaked in urine and carrying a full load; I don't think it even occurred to her to let me know she needed changing.

Basically all I achieved last weekend is a desire to never see a naked butt again.

So I'm cashing out, I'm admitting defeat, I'm full on quitting.  This endeavor was a complete and total waste of time, water, and paper towels.

Maybe I should just teach her to change her own diapers.

Monday, April 23, 2012

Defcon 3: Alert Level Yellow

So, this morning I had my follow up appointment with the perinatologist, and I can now tell you that I am definitively at risk for pre-term delivery.  Last week my cervical thickness measure 22mm (the norm would be about 30), and today I measured 13mm.  So a pretty significant decrease in just a week - and I wasn't even having that many contractions or any other symptoms.  My fetal fibronectin test was negative, which is a pretty good sing that I won't suddenly burst into labor in the next week or so, but with the rapid disintegration of my cervix I'm not sure how reassuring that really is.

I have not been put on official bedrest (as far as I know - this doc is not the most detailed in his instructions), but I have been told not to lift anything heavy, to try and get someone else to do the chores around the house, and to call my mom and have her come stay with me if my husband isn't going to be available.  So basically I haven't been sentenced to bedrest, but I'm not really supposed to get up ever either.  Fun.  I will spend the next however many weeks defending against the implication that I made all this up so I could just lay around and be lazy and pretending to laugh at jokes about how I never really did anything anyway so this can't be that much of a change.

Ha.  Ha.  Ha.

Moving forward I have three goals: to hit 32, 34 and 36 weeks.  After 32 weeks the baby may require a significant hospital stay as the lungs mature, but will most likely not suffer from any long term damage either to the lungs or neurologically.  That is only 4 days away, so I feel reassured that whatever may happen, I am going to have a healthy, normal baby.  After 34 weeks, the only issue the baby will typically face involve feeding problems relating to their lack of strength and limited development of the suck-swallow process.  If I make it to 36 weeks, then there are no concerns with the baby at all, and we are good to go.

So now we just wait and see.  I had the first of two steroid shots this morning to help develop the baby's lungs (the second will be tomorrow) and then it is just a matter of letting nature take its course, and hoping it isn't in too much of a hurry!  Brett is home for the next week, and we are making plans for my mom to come when he has to leave for work, and that's about it.  If you need me, I'll be firmly ensconced in my couch divot.

Thursday, April 19, 2012

Nesting

In general I do not fall prey to the nesting urges you hear about women getting while pregnant.  When I was pregnant with Isabelle I had a period of time around the holidays when I wanted to bake constantly, but I think that's really the only time I did anything along the lines of nesting.  And I wouldn't say that I'm particularly nesting this time around, given the fact that I still kind of think I have months and months to prepare and have yet to even look through all the baby things I have saved, or take any steps towards moving Sophie and Izzy into a shared room so I can properly set up the nursery.

So I don't know if it is simply nesting or just the fact that I've been wanting to do a household purge for about 6 months and been to lazy to actually get started, but the past few days I have been on fire to whip this house into shape.  Not that I have actually DONE anything about it (busy as I am with other things, and no, the potty training isn't going well, thanks for asking), but I have made copious lists and notes about what it is I want to do.

Obviously most important thing is to get the girls' room set up so that I can a) have a place that isn't the dirty garage to use as a baby staging area so I can wash and sort clothes and bedding and maybe get the dresser and changing area properly set up and b) hopefully get them adjusted to sharing a bedroom before we all have to adjust to having a newborn in the house.  I did go through Isabelle's stuff and weed out what didn't need to be in her room, as well as totally reorganize all of her clothes so that the dresser has room for Sophie's clothes, which would probably count as a baby step, except that she no doubt has the whole thing all messed up already so I will probably have to do it again.  I have picked out the bunk bed I want, but I haven't ordered it yet, and the same thing goes for a small bookcase I'm planning to put into an unused corner of the room so there is a little more space for toy storage.  I haven't done a thing in Sophie's room, so she has an entire dresser full of clothes that are probably mostly too small that need to be sorted, and a giant bin of toys that needs to have the broken parts and random bits of junk disposed of.  And then of course there is the actual moving of all of these items, as well as getting them used to having another person in their room at all times.  Sophie and Izzy are both complete disasters as far as messy rooms go, so I really can't wait to see what the explosion looks like when they (and all their stuff) are contained in one space.

I need to sort and organize the linen closet so there is a clear space for the kids' extra sheets (which are currently in their rooms, but once the girls are sharing there won't be room anymore, and I could probably stand to reorganize the linens in my bathroom too, since we have nice towels and washcloths co-mingling on shelves with the nasty ones used for cleaning up messes.

I need to go through Jack's closet and get rid of all the random stuff I put in there three years ago because I didn't know where else to put it and never looked at again, and I need to move all of my clothes that I hung in there when my closet got full into the nursery closet (or the goodwill bin) because I told him I would clear his closet out so he could play in it after I found him playing in Izzy's closet.  I probably need to do yet another big purge of my own closet, but that can wait until well after the baby and I have a handle on my size.  hopefully I'll be getting rid of almost everything because I've lost so much weight!

There is a whole wall of storage in the basement that could stand to be drastically reduced, as well as a closet under the stairs that I'd like to make more accessible to the kids and therefore needs to have the non-kid items removed.  And of course there are the bins and bins of toys that are once again overflowing and need to be reorganized and all the neglected items donated.

But my first order of business i think is going to be to reorganize underneath all of the bathroom sinks (and kitchen).  I've been making some of my own cleaners, as well as using up bottles of store bought products which are finally running out, and I am SO ready to get everything on a unified system (and no more poisonous chemicals!!).  I like to have each bathroom equipped with its own cleaning items so any mess can be tackled without running all over the house for products (this greatly aids in the likelihood that I will actually clean something), and my OCD tendencies make it ever so much more pleasing if every station has the same stuff.

So I've been busy working out my shopping list of spray bottles and containers and storage bins for rags (want to get away from using so many paper towels) and trying to figure out just how many boxes of baking soda and bottles of vinegar I'm going to need to get.  I have to decide exactly what items each station needs, as well as where/how I'm going to store the raw ingredients for making up new batches.  Terribly exciting, I know, but I have gotten myself all worked up over this project to the point where my plans are rattling around so vigorously that I will no doubt buy all the wrong stuff, or forget what I'm doing or just generally get myself so confused that I have to quit because I no longer remember what I'm doing.  See? I'm already so confused that I typed :forget what I'm doing" twice in that sentence.

This is why my organization projects are always only half done.

Anyway, my mind is all a jumble with this never-ending list of need to-dos and want to-dos, and I will probably lose momentum before I get anything done, but for now I feel energized and inspired to take some of the things I've aspired to on Pinterest and apply them to my own life!  Or at least to my cabinets.

Tuesday, April 17, 2012

We're Getting Naked Up In Here

I'm going to share an embarrassing secret with you: Sophie isn't potty trained.  And yes, she is *cough*almost three and half *cough*.  She has been wearing pull-ups exclusively for over a year, but that is the extent of our efforts towards getting her out of diapers.  Sure, she occasionally asks to sit on the potty, and once or twice has even coincidentally done her business there, but that's it.  A gazillion years ago she showed some small interest, but after a brief time of having the little potty in her bedroom for naps and bedtime in case she wanted to use it that efforts was thoroughly derailed when she started dismantling it every day (empty) and I decided to take it away before she decided to play with it full.  Since then I've been waiting for a resurgence of interest, and basically hiding my head in the sand about the whole thing.  But then my friend Amy wrote this post about how well her potty training went with her youngest child yesterday, and I have to shamefully admit that it is past time for my child to be out of the baby stage and acting her age.

Now, before you strain yourself from rolling your eyes at my negligent parenting (what, too late?) let me explain some of my "reasons" behind not doing anything sooner.  Well, reasons besides sheer procrastination and denial.  First off, I'm a big proponent of waiting until they are ready - we waited with Jack and he was in diapers one day and fully trained the next, so that seems the easiest thing to do, with the least amount of crying, yelling, and carpet clean up.  You hear all kinds of horror stories about forcing children who aren't ready, and giving them complexes over the toilet and mental scarring and whatnot.  Obviously we don't want that.  Plus, my kids are HUGELY stubborn (especially Sophie), and a battle of wills with a three year old never ends well. 

Second, I've never really done the potty training thing.  Sure, I have two kids who use the toilet properly, but that is more a result of inevitability than anything I did.  I trained Isabelle when she was two, using methods from the book Toilet Training In Less Than A Day, and while I followed the instructions precisely, the fact that she was fully trained in only a few hours - including at night and during naps - is more a testament to how cooperative and awesome she is than anything I really did.  With Jack and his hysterical reactions to basically everything, I knew right away that the methods in the book were not going to work, so I chose the ever popular wait and see method.  Basically this consisted of asking him everyday if he wanted to use the potty like a big boy until eventually one day he did.  Success, but hardly victory.

I was fully prepared to utilize this wait until they do it themselves method with Sophie too, except apparently she has no motivation to grow up at all.  She likes being the baby, and argues about it if you ask her if she wants to be a big girl.  She also shows zero signs of discomfort or distress when wearing a full diaper - half the time she argues when you want to change her.  She is also completely uninterested in praise or parental approval.  Isabelle is the definition of a people pleaser, and desperately wants to help out and make you proud which no doubt played a huge role in how quickly she potty trained.  Plus, she has always shown a tendency to be self reliant - she wanted to do her own car seat-belt at age one.  Jack is more motivated by the fear of disappointing you, and he also doesn't want to even try to do anything unless he can do it perfectly - which is why waiting until he was confident and truly ready worked for him.

Sophie is different.  Sophie does not want to do things for herself, she prefers to be waited on hand and foot.  And she is fiercely independent, and unconcerned with anyone else's opinions.  Basically, Sophie is a tiny little tyrannical dictator crossed with honeybadger - and we all know honeybadger don't care.

But as you know, a new baby is soon going to disrupt our lives, and this combined with her practically geriatric age has lit the fire under me to get her out of diapers.  I figured the mornings when both Jack and Izzy are at school would be the best time because I could give her 100% attention (and no one would be "helping"), so last Thursday we popped her into underpants and set her up with all the juice she wanted to drink.  There proceeded to be one successful trip to the potty that was primarily lucky timing, and four or five accidents which don't even really count as accidents since she wasn't even trying not to wet her pants.  Interestingly, all of the accidents happened on Brett's watch, which I don't think was related to him not doing what I asked but instead is just some weird refusal to cooperate with him even less than she does with me.  So I won't be letting him help anymore, although I like that I missed all the cleaning!

Anyway, after all of that failure (and the soiling of every pair of training pants we have) I decided to just scrap the whole project and maybe wait a few weeks then try again.  I've never been accused of being proactive, after all.  But shame is a powerful motivator, and I have to face the fact that it is well past time Sophie learn to control her bodily emissions.  And I have to admit it would be super great to only have the baby in diapers.  So today we shall try again, and based on Amy's methods I'm leaving the training pants in the closet and going the full monty.  Or at least, Sophie is - I will remain fully clothed which I'm sure we all agree is best.  I doubt we'll see much success today since I only have two hours between when I drop Jack off at school and pick him up again and no doubt she can hold out that whole time until I am forced to put a diaper back on her, but it's a start.  The couch is wrapped in a plastic shower curtain and beach towel in case of accidents, and so far Sophie only cried about being naked for five minutes.  She has also said "I'm done going potty, can I have my diaper now?" every single time I've gotten her to sit on the potty so I don't think the purpose of this exercise is really sinking in.

But I'm going to get her trained if it kills me.  (R. I. P. it's been great knowing you )


update 12:15pm: we have made it through the morning session with one accident, and two successes (including a poop huzzah!)  Both successful 'deposits' were met with a decided lack of enthusiasm on Sophie's part - even for the m&ms. let's hope she gets a little more interested this afternoon.

Sunday, April 15, 2012

Beware The Mombie

Everyone recognizes the shuffling gait, rotting wounds and gaping mouth of the zombie - but how familiar are you with its lesser known cousin, the Mombie?  This handy guide will help you identify this beast in a variety of natural environments.

A Brief Introduction:
Mombieism is an ailment that affects most new mothers  shortly after birth, whereby the demands of caring for an infant along with a severe lack of sleep combine to render the mother almost entirely brain dead.  Most cases of mombieism occur after a nine month parasitic gestation, but there can be almost instantaneous infection in the presence of young children infected with common ailments such as stomach flu, that cause them to wake up every hour for a night or more.  These cases are much more likely to occur in previously affected victims.

Physical Symptoms:
Mombies share many characteristics of the zombie: sluggish, uneven movement, slurred speech, vacant stare and sloppy, disheveled appearance.  The mombie will not (typically) try to chase or eat you, but may come armed with iphone or other device loaded with hundreds of identical photos you are expected to examine and exclaim over.  Conversation with the mombie is difficult at best; most subjects will be incoherent and rambling.  Occasional moments of lucidity will revolve entirely around sleep patterns, feeding schedules and the explosive emissions from both ends of the ruling parasite.  Mombies are highly emotional, and cannot be expected to behave in a rational manner; reactions to nearly everything can result in tears, or even screaming.  The mombie will typically insist on completing their normal daily tasks without assistance, and intervention comes at your own risk, but if possible, it is best try to keep anyone infected away from large machinery or a hot stove.

If seen in public, the mombie may initially appear to be a normal, uninfected person immediately after going to the gym.  But upon closer examination, you will see that the exercise clothes have not been worn for any type of physical activity, and in fact have likely not been changed in days (possibly even weeks).  Hair will be unbrushed, clothing will be caked in various stains, and makeup will likely be absent, showcasing extremely dark under eye circles and sallow complexion.  A small subset of victims (typically the newly affected) will try to disguise their infection with heavier than normal under eye concealer - these will be identified by the mascara smears left from the most recent crying jag.  In public situations the mombie will typically be carrying a large basket, within which will lie the cause of infection: the infant.  It is sometimes possible for curious bystanders to view this creature, although many mombies will be rabidly protective.  In any case it is always wisest to effusively compliment the child and move away as quickly as possible.  Most common places to spot a mombie in the wild include the baby aisles of the supermarket or drugstore; usually the mombie can be seen standing and staring vacantly at the rows and rows of children's tylenol and formula.

Many people who lose a loved one to mombieism have the chance to see the beast in its natural environment.  Mombies live in normal houses and apartments just like everyone else, but their lack of maintenance easily sets them apart from the uninfected.  Diapers, bottles, burp rags and baby clothes (both clean and soiled) will be seen on all surfaces within the home.  There will likely also be evidence of the past week's worth of meals- either dirty dishes left moldering on the counter tops or the detritus of fast food containers.

Risks:
Fortunately, there is very little risk of contracting mombieism.  Unlike zombies, which seek constantly to spread their scourge through bites, mombieism primarily infects on an individual basis.  Occasionally there will be small outbreaks (known as "baby booms), but it has yet to be proven if these instances are actually related or simply coincidental.  However, despite the low rate of contagion, there is a small risk for transmission.  Known as "baby fever" the underlying illness that leads to mombieism is most typically transmitted in the bsence of the mombie.  Instead, baby fever is usually passed on to unsuspecting individuals who find themselves unprepared for the onslaught of hormones that are unleashed when faced with gurgling, chubby babies.  It is as yet unknown whether the fever is spread through contact with the often copious drool emmitted by these beasts, or if it has airborne properties.  The incubation phase of baby fever is also a concern, as it can lay dormant for months or even years.  Once symptoms manifest, it is typically 9 months (40 weeks) until the full development of the mombie.

Cure:
Mombieism is rarely ever fatal, and 99% of victims will recover over time.  However, remission can be brought about within days if friends and family of the victim are willing to assume care over any and all children causing the disorder and allow the victim to get some much needed rest and recovery.

Conclusion:
While nearly everyone infected with mombieism will recover in time, it can still be shocking when you encounter a loved one who has fallen victim.  Hopefully this guide will help you to better understand the mombie, as well as learn more about what you can do to both help the mombie return to normalcy, as well as to avoid becoming infected yourself.

Friday, April 13, 2012

30 Weeks

Maybe you saw this photo of me last night on Facebook (or Twitter or Instagram - holy social media Batman!) and are wondering what was going on.


Well, let me tell you. Yesterday I was treated to a steady, dull ache all across my abdomen and lower back.  It was not particularly painful (maybe a 2 on the pain scale), but it was definitely a different feeling than normal Braxton-Hicks or round ligament pain.  I was fully prepared to suck it up as normal pregnancy discomfort, especially given the strength of contractions I had been having over the past few weeks, but around 4pm I realized that my normally kick-boxing baby wasn't moving as often or as vigorously as usual.

So I called the doctor's office, rushed down to get there before closing time at 5pm, and got strapped to the fetal stress monitor - hence the above photo.  Baby was moving on the monitor, contractions didn't register as anything other than what they should be, and I was told everything looked just fine.

But, oh, by the way, can you come back tomorrow?

Now, to me, "all fine" doesn't seem to necessitate an immediate return in the morning, so I knew that clearly something was indicating, if not a problem, then at least slightly abnormal.  And indeed, this morning before I even had gotten dressed the doctor's office called and asked me to make a ultrasound appointment before my doctor's appointment.

So at 10am this morning I was treated to a transvaginal ultrasound where they measured my cervix, and then once gain strapped into the fetal stress monitor for about an hour.  Stress test results were fine, but my cervix measured less than 2cm which is a fair amount less than the 3cm they would expect to see at this stage.  So that earned me a trip to see a perinatologist, and in turn a whole other ultrasound.  Yay.

Where we stand at this point:  Given the lack of reference, the thinning of my cervix may or may not be cause for concern.  It is possible I was never much more than 2 cm thick and we just never knew because it hadn't been measured previously, or it's possible I was 4cm thick just last week and things are progressing rapidly (not very likely).  We just don't know.  So I will visit the perinatologist in a week to have my cervix measured again, at which point we can more accurately gauge if I'm actually at risk for pre-term labor.  At that visit I will also get some sort of swab test (that is all he called it - I'm betting there is a technical name) that can tell definitively whether you will go into labor within the next two weeks.  If the test is negative, then there is no risk of having the baby before 33 weeks, and I'll just go back to my regular scheduled visits with my OB.  If the test is positive, then I will get steroid injections to develop the baby's lungs, as well as bed rest.  Which my husband forbid me from being put on, lol.

So right now it is basically a waiting game.  I'm on the lookout for more than 6 contractions in a hour, excessive pressure on my cervix from the baby's head, signs of my water breaking, etc, and I've been told to not stand if I can sit.  Which is basically my personal motto anyway.

So there you have it - a bit of excitement and intrigue here this past week.. Which will hopefully make up for not having any pictures this week since I wore the same yoga pants/ t-shirt combo literally every day.

Tuesday, April 10, 2012

Rainman Veggies

From the time he started eating real food up until he was about three, Jack would happily eat his whatever veggies we put on his plate.  Peas and corn (not actually a veggie, yes I know) were gone in a flash, and while green beans or carrots didn't receive as warm a welcome, they would usually be eaten as well.  And then he just stopped.  Everything was horrible, peas were completely offensive, and he would throw charming fits of crying and whining whenever presented with them.

It was super fun.

Eventually I started giving him only tiny amounts that might not offend his delicate senses (the gagging whenever he tried to eat a pea), and the rule was he could eat what was on his plate or not, but he couldn't complain or whine, and unless he ate it all he didn't get dessert.  This was primarily ineffectual, most likely due to a lack of any real enforcement.  Bu then we struck upon the goldmine that is counting.  You see, if you count his veggies as he eats them, he will keep going.  Until they are all gone.  Happily.  Which is great because he is getting the vitamins and nutritional nonsense he needs, and there is no more arguing or cry baby at my table.  And I can give him a normal, full size serving too, which makes me feel a little less like the worst mom ever at dinner time, even if I am serving them chicken nuggets for the third time this week.

The only drawback - the actual counting.

Have you counted to 100 lately? Cause I have, and it kind of blows.  Jack insists on eating his peas one by one (and swallowing them whole), and in order to continue this wonderful dinnertime participation, I have to count them all, one by one.  Not mind numbing AT ALL.  And given my usual current state of near total brain death (as evidenced by me typing that as bread death), I am pretty much unable to focus on anything but staring at him intently (wouldn't want to miss a pea) and counting.  So the other kids talking to me and asking for stuff gets fairly distracting.  Not to mention they go pretty ignored for the duration of the vegetables.

But that's okay.  I'm hoping that the constant repetition of the numbers will help him with his own counting, and soon enough he'll be able to do it all by himself, which will be nice.  Especially since last night at the end of the meal Sophie asked me to count as she ate her peas.

One by one.

Friday, April 6, 2012

29 Weeks

What can I say?  We are reaching the days when every morning I am bigger (and better?) than ever. 

4-3-12

According to my doctor's office, I gained 7 lbs in the past month, which is "slightly more than we'd like to see" and sort of a staggering amount.  I mean, I haven't even gotten to the weeks where I'm SUPPOSED to gain a pound a week and I'm already topping that?  Excellent.  Looks like I'm going to beat my previous weight record.  Super.

On the positive side, Mother Nature heeded my pleas and the weather has been nice and cool, allowing me to swaddle my every growing body in some of the outfits I had planned, and covered with cardigans and light jackets, keeping that ever so delightful armpit fat/boob spillage firmly under cover.  Phew!  And just in time too, since many of these outfits which were somewhat swamping me just a few weeks ago are starting to resemble sausage casings.  And no matter how stylish, that is never a good look.

What I wore:

4-3-12 (2)

tunic: Goodwill
cardigan: Target
unitard: American Apparel
shoes: Toms

4-4-12 (2)
this outfit was significantly more flattering when I first wore it - which was a few weeks and more than a few pounds ago

top: Old Navy maternity
belt: no clue
leggings: Motherhood maternity
sandals: Steve Madden

4-5-12 (1)

tank top: Pea in the Pod
shirt: Pea in the Pod
cardigan: Free People
leggings: Isabella Oliver
shoes: farylrobin
purse: Ellington

4-6-12 (1)

shirt: Asos maternity
jacket: Goodwill
pants: Isabelle Oliver
shoes: farylrobin


Chances are the fashion is going to decline here any day (from its admittedly lofty perch, lol), along with my mobility and comfort and ability to see my feet.  But that's ok.  HOME STRETCH!!