BellyShots: 33 Weeks

Well, here is the belleh at 33 weeks!

32 Weeks

Doesn’t Cybil look like a stalwart little figurehead on some full-bellied ship? What a hull on that one, eh?

Yesterday—when  this picture was taken— was a work day around the little apartment. I find I work best on a work day when I’m wearing my designated work clothes. It’s a costuming thing… all about the intent, the special occasion. Not in the sense of a “fancy dress” occasion, but a specific one.

What I love about special occasion, for-this-reason clothes is how well they retain their usefulness and appeal, regardless of  trend.

“These are my cleaning/painting/gardening/staying home sick with a mug of tea clothes, and I will always have these particular occasions in my life, so they will always be exactly perfect when I put them on!”

This brown plaid used to belong to Mom and has been one of my work shirts since high school. I can name the plays for which I helped build sets and sew costumes while wearing this shirt, just by looking at the paint swipes and little tiny holes. I’m glad it still (mostly) covers me… how could I possibly work with no work shirt?
(The handkerchief in my hair, however, belonged to my grandpa; it’s only for light work days with errand-running and organizing.)

Anyhow. I was wearing a work shirt because we are organizing the living room in the wake of the Great Nursery Renovation.

We have a nursery! Hoorah!

We’ve cleared out all of the office stuff and boxes of unsorted miscellanea (except for all the storage in the big closet, of course), and now there’s a neat little room with a crib and a big white wooden rocker, and everything. Granted, the crib is currently holding all the baby stuff (clothes, johnny jump-up, vibra-chair, bedding). And we still have to bring in the dresser and changing table, and figure out what to do with the cat’s litter-box. And haul out two or three more boxes.  But still… a nursery!

It’s getting more important to me to have things set up in time… an urgency accelerated by all the crazy movement in the belleh. EG is head down, alright, and perhaps has less space to move about as it grows… but that kid is making the most of it’s available inches. Hiccups, shoulder rolls, kicks, side-to-side shifts… every time I stop moving the baby starts! Today during church, the organ was clearly an invitation to dance right through the sermon and all the prayers. At least I know the little thing appreciates good music.

Let’s see, other pregnancy updates…

Still feeling mostly pretty good, though last week revealed the inevitable panic of “Oh no! I’ve already gained all my recommended weight, and there’s still so many weeks of growing!” I have been told many times not to focus on the weight, as long as it’s not out of control (it isn’t)… but still. It’s hard to see that scale keep sliding over, and know that it was “supposed” to stop several hashmarks ago. Ooof. But really, there’s not much I can do at this point. The cookies have been eaten, and the only thing I can do about it is to make a more concentrated effort to eat sensibly, and to cut out unnecessary sugar. “Maybe keep it to one treat a day,” says my midwife. I can do that.

This particular discovery and worry was also perfectly timed with our birthing class. The instructor has handed out an exercise and nutrition sheet to fill out everyday, and I’m actually enjoying the paperwork. It makes me feel like I’m doing the right things, y’know? And it’s a little thing to mention, but I’m really coming to enjoy the ritual of making my own breakfast every morning, making sure that I cover all my nutritional bases… and get a good start on crossing off all my little boxes for the day. Eggs, protein, fruit, dairy: Check.

And then I think… would I be able to really do all this, get the nursery set up and exercise regularly and eat so conscientiously if I were working? The answer, of course, is yes. It would be harder, and I’d likely be doing it with less sleep, but yes. It’s what I had always planned on doing and what most women my age do with every pregnancy. But at least I am learning enough right now to ask myself the question and then really, truly appreciate the blessing —however mixed it may be— of time and energy during my days leading up to the birth.

And, in the world  of Fruit in My Belleh, we have traveled from

a JICAMA at 32 weeks to

a PINEAPPLE at 33 weeks.

(Must be all those spiky greens that are responsible for my heartburn…)

Or, about 17 inches and 4 lbs of baby.


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