I've always been reticent to look at pregnant women's bellies or to show my own, but I've heard enough requests for an update. And I must confess, I really love being pregnant. I had no idea it could be this good. Granted, I've had a relatively easy pregnancy---few bouts of nausea, the typical mono-like symptoms in the first trimester, and an energetic, feeling great second trimester. I walk the mile to and from work almost every day, and even squeeze in a 3+ miler with my friend, Colleen, when we get the chance. I'm still in most of my original clothes thanks to stretchy shirts and Stacy's Bellyband.
But before we show you the photos, let me entertain you with the dreams Hawk and I had last night.
Hawk's dream: Wanting to protect me & Ace (the baby's nickname) from going into premature labor, he trains me in combat and self-defence. In particular, he "trains" me to defend my body against punches (we think this might be the subconscious effect of a verbal altercation I endured from a volunteer through work this past weekend). But for some reason, he keeps punching me. Not that I'm not blocking well. He's just 15 inches taller and much more mighty.
So I go into premature labor.
The baby, who turns out to be a boy, comes out a year old and talking. Apparently, he is also highly unattractive. Lovely.
Jen's dream: Yet another one of my I-have-powers-and-skills-that-save-at-least-one-person-and-often-an-entire-civilization dreams. Except that in this one, my power comes from unborn Ace. In particular, I can fly downhill. Not uphill. Downhill. And when I do, I sprout turquoise and deep blue feathers.
Halfway through the dream, Ace decides that flying downhill is not as fun as breathing underwater. I am told, somehow, that this is my next task. My dream commences with the two of us swimming underwater---in a run-down indoor half-Olympic-sized pool.
I then wake and try desperately to get back to the flying dream, which was way more fun, whatever Ace thinks.
Lastly, I've been laughing to myself all morning because after Hawk put in his retainers last night, I was teasing him about something and he said, "schltop," instead of stop. You know, the wet, back-of-the-tongue sort of stop you get from the nerdy kid in the coming-of-age teenage 80's drama.
Alright, on to the photos. Here's the little kiddo at 13 weeks:
But before we show you the photos, let me entertain you with the dreams Hawk and I had last night.
Hawk's dream: Wanting to protect me & Ace (the baby's nickname) from going into premature labor, he trains me in combat and self-defence. In particular, he "trains" me to defend my body against punches (we think this might be the subconscious effect of a verbal altercation I endured from a volunteer through work this past weekend). But for some reason, he keeps punching me. Not that I'm not blocking well. He's just 15 inches taller and much more mighty.
So I go into premature labor.
The baby, who turns out to be a boy, comes out a year old and talking. Apparently, he is also highly unattractive. Lovely.
Jen's dream: Yet another one of my I-have-powers-and-skills-that-save-at-least-one-person-and-often-an-entire-civilization dreams. Except that in this one, my power comes from unborn Ace. In particular, I can fly downhill. Not uphill. Downhill. And when I do, I sprout turquoise and deep blue feathers.
Halfway through the dream, Ace decides that flying downhill is not as fun as breathing underwater. I am told, somehow, that this is my next task. My dream commences with the two of us swimming underwater---in a run-down indoor half-Olympic-sized pool.
I then wake and try desperately to get back to the flying dream, which was way more fun, whatever Ace thinks.
Lastly, I've been laughing to myself all morning because after Hawk put in his retainers last night, I was teasing him about something and he said, "schltop," instead of stop. You know, the wet, back-of-the-tongue sort of stop you get from the nerdy kid in the coming-of-age teenage 80's drama.
Alright, on to the photos. Here's the little kiddo at 13 weeks:
And here he or she is at just shy of 26 weeks (we're now 27.5 weeks, as a point of reference). Note, this is not a maternity shirt. Hence, we did not realize until after the photo was taken and the dinner party completed that I was sporting a little undergarment peek-a-boo. Sorry Ace. You're mother's a floozy.
I am also noticing that my cheeks have indeed grown. Hawk will be pleased (he hopes Ace comes out with doughy, pudgy cheeks). I say, it could be worse!
Happy Wednesday, everybody!
icj,
~j
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