I was 17 weeks pregnant on Halloween. Seventeen weeks pregnant means only the top button of my coat buttons and I can wear my jeans only with the help of the hairband trick. Most days I look (and feel) just plain fat instead of pregnant, but I've been told that most first-time mothers notice a growth spurt between 20 and 24 weeks.
Right now I'm carrying a baby the size of an apple or a turnip or a tiny pumpkin (take your pick; every website says something different). Every day I hope for the quickening: the time when I first feel the baby move. And still, I'm waiting. I hope it happens sooner, rather than later. I'm ready to interact with this little one!
I'm glad to be firmly in the second trimester. I feel good. Normal, actually. During the first trimester I spent most of my time asleep or sick, so I'm happy to have energy to help make dinner, bake bread, or, you know, reorganize the house. After three months of sluggishness, I used my first burst of energy to rearrange our bedroom. Our upstairs living room soon followed, and I've set my sights on the kitchen cabinets next. I'm afraid the third trimester will zap my energy again, so I'm trying to pack as much into these three months as I can.
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I hope you're all doing well! What's going on in your life this week?