30 Weeks?!

How pregnant are you?  75% done-ish pregnant. If Bugbear were a grade, s/he'd be a very solid C. I'm pregnant enough that when I had orientation last week and my first class this week, people didn't ask "are you pregnant?" but rather "how far along are you?" or "when are you due?" or "How are you still wearing heels?" That's pretty darn pregnant.

Relate this pregnancy to objects we tend to eat or other everyday things. Bugbear is roughly the same size this week as s/he was last week--awkward, and without any good comparison.  All his/her energy (and apparently, all my calories) have been going toward brain development, as the wrinkles on the brain's surface increase and more myelin is built up to help speed connections.

Tell me some random stuff about the Bugbear.  S/he is losing most of his/her lanugo hair this week, since the fat that s/he's putting on takes over the job of regulating temperature while inside. There are probably still patches on his/her back and forehead, so it's not all gone, but more is gone than present. Once outside, it will be difficult for him/her to regulate his/her body temperature again, which is why skin to skin contact and babywearing are two things we're looking forward to doing.

The other interesting thing that happened this week is that

Tell me how you feel physically. Kinda like death. The hip pain is really, really bad at night, so I'm not sleeping for crap. On Saturday, I slept for six hours straight after driving three hours, working for ten hours, then driving another three hours. It was GLORIOUS. Now I'm feeling lucky if I get two hour stretches instead of 30 minute stretches. I'm looking forward to binding belts and getting things squished back to where they should be. Not only do I miss my clothes, but I miss the ability to sleep, even if I won't be expecting much consistent sleep.

What are you craving? Zucchini bread. Mom's recipe, no nuts, fresh from the oven with salted butter melting on the top of it, burn the roof of your mouth and your tongue just a little bit, zucchini bread. Fortunately, Michael is headed to a farmer's market today, so I'm hoping all my craving dreams will be coming true on Friday morning.

Are you crazy emotional? Nope. I'm again seeming to be on a more even keel. It's work, and it's hard work, but it is nice. And since I'm not sleeping, it's hard work that I know I need to keep up so that I don't wind up a miserable holy terror for the next 8-12 weeks.

Anything else? I've started singing to Bugbear when s/he gets all kicky and worked up, as his/her little kicks/punches/headbutts/WhoKnowsWhats can be knock-me-off-a-chair painful at times. It's usually the rib ones that hurt most. But sometimes, I can't help but picture a fetus dressed up as a melodrama villain plotting to see what will hurt out of sheer boredom. On the upside, singing and rubbing the little extremities seems to work. On the downside, it's making me realize just how much resonance without pitch control my swollen sinuses have given me.  S/he doesn't seem to mind, though, and I'm not quite ready to start putting ice packs on my ribs to make him/her move, so this seems good for now.