I was looking through some old pictures yesterday and was confronted by the shocking realization that I am as big right now at 25 weeks as I was last pregnancy at 33 weeks. I suspect my 18-pound weight gain from my last pregnancy is going to be dramatically surpassed this time around.
I’ve been getting awful side-stitch cramps—bad enough to make walking painful and difficult—after walking less than one block. And if I walk more than a block my sciatic nerve pain flares up for the rest of the day. Perhaps I would have also had these problems during my last pregnancy, but I never walked anywhere in Roseville.
Lucia and I went to meet Andrew for lunch at his office today. (Yes, I took the subway, yes, I got side-cramps and back pain, but sometimes I get stubborn and irrational [as Andrew would surely say] and can’t stop looking at taxi fare as just that much less we’ll have toward our house fund, the house-buying moment being that magical time when I won’t have to take the subway with a baby ever again.) Lucia, unimpressed by the limitless food options available, deigned to eat only a breadstick and sip water from a plastic cup while crawling all over me at the table, completely ignoring the incredible Manhattan view from our perch on a large terrace. It seems unthinkable that there will come a time in our lives when we will eat a meal together and everyone will sit in his or her own seat and will not repeatedly attempt to pour water from a cup into an empty soup bowl. Nonetheless, I enjoyed my sweet-and-sour shrimp, duck sausage summer roll, pad thai, cilantro string beans, and cocoa, coconut, and sea salt cookies, washed down with a tasty tomato-and-lemon juice. If I worked at Andrew’s company I have no doubt I’d gain eighty pounds this pregnancy.
Lucia walked partway to the subway today, carrying Elmo and her cat. She stopped by a planter holding a small bush and, very gently, took one of Elmo's hands and held it out so Elmo could touch a leaf. She's pretty cute, this one. (The maddening-in-one-paragraph, adorable-in-another phenomenon is pretty much life with Lucia as a toddler.)
Tomorrow I will have my second-worst morning ever: my glucose challenge test, three blood tests in two hours. The only reason this won’t rate as my worst morning ever is that during my last pregnancy I had four blood tests in three hours. So there’s that. And if I can’t eat ice cream again for the rest of this pregnancy…well, let’s just hope for the best.
I just reread this post and it would appear I am in a bad, whiny mood. I’m actually not. We’ve had a nice day so far, and Andrew might come home early, and we’ll get something nice for dinner tonight. But it’s hot back here by my computer, and my overheatedness is, I’m afraid, influencing my tone. And so I shall bring this to an end and go sit in front of the AC.