20w0d – Ohh, we’re half way the-ere

I am officially at the half-way point of pregnancy. In about 20 weeks, Hubby-poo and I will be parents. Ack! I would definitely say we’re livin’ on a prayer right now. We do believe we’ll make it (we swear), but we’re definitely anxious.

And, yes, I might have heard Livin’ on a Prayer on the radio this morning. I thought that was super-appropriate, actually (I might have squealed a little bit). And I might be a Bon Jovi fan. You can take the girl out of Jersey….

In any case, I think that list-mode is about to begin. Quite frankly, I’m surprised it has not started yet. I don’t even have a binder where I’m keeping everything yet. Yeah, I think that long-distance planning my wedding broke me, and I am no longer the project manager I used to be. But that’s all about to change. We know we’re having a girl, so it’s time to start to create lists, spreadsheets, calendars, etc. and making some plans on when to buy a crib, interview pediatricians, research car seats, register, tour day cares, select a hospital (we’re about 90% sure on this one, but have a tour of Plano Presbyterian next weekend, and I’m going to call them both and get an idea of cost differences given my insurance), paint the nursery, pick out girly stuff, etc., etc., etc.

I would like to share a few perspectives from the half-way point. Overall, it’s not so bad. I’m exhausted, which makes things hard. But that’s not super new considering I have been anemic on and off since a few months after the wedding. I’m not really showing much yet, which makes me a bit sad. I definitely have a bit of a belly, and maybe only two pairs of my regular pants fit me anymore, but people are still surprised when I tell them. So I guess people must jut think I’m getting fat. I have gained about 10 lbs, which is perfect since my OB wants me to gain between 15 and 25 (although, my PCP thinks gaining up to 30 or 35 is fine, and my hippy chiropractor sees no problem with gaining 40 or 50, so who knows?). But I never got real morning sickness (just intense queasiness, which wasn’t exactly comfortable). Of course, I think that most of the fun begins when I get bigger. I’m not looking forward to stretch marks, varicose veins, or hemorrhoids.

Hubby-poo is great. Sometimes I feel bad asking him to do things for me, but he always reminds me that I get to ask for whatever I want because I’m building a baby and that’s really important work. He took leadership of going through the name books. He’s quite a bit behind me on his reading and research, but he’s generally not that proactive (or at least not as proactive as I am) about those things anyway. He’s super-excited to have a baby (he kind of wants to have her here now, which is really cute), he’s always open to talking about baby stuff (we read about her every night from our day-by-day book), and he is a really good sport about going to the baby stores with the Baby Bargains books and crossing things out and recording the scores and all that jazz. He also thinks about things and feels stress about them and wants to find the best way to do things. The best part is that he is completely flexible about eating around my aversions and desires (I don’t want to call them cravings, because they are no more extreme than they always were). So if I want to go out for a burger or burrito, he’s up for it, regardless of how cold it is outside. And he’s very understanding of my exhaustion, so he isn’t complaining that the chores I typically do aren’t always getting done (and sometimes, but not always, he picks up some of the slack in those parts of the house). What can I say? We both know we’ve got each other, and that’s a lot.