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Boys, girls, fathers, big pink bows, and RLP.

2005-08-03 - 2:47 p.m.

Time for a new entry, reluctant as I am to have the picture of Grommet come off my main page. Go check out yesterday's entry if you missed it.

So far I’ve had people pronouncing from one look at the ultrasound picture whether Grommet is a boy or a girl. I’ve noticed this almost always seems to correspond with whether that person is hoping for a boy or a girl. For example, my stepmother (who has two boys and I think would like a change) looked and said “girl,” my father (who’s always been biased in favour of boys) looked and said “definitely a boy”. Gah.

While I know we’ll love whichever we have, at the moment J is kind of hoping a little bit more for a boy and I’m kind of hoping a little bit more for a girl, so I figure that one of us will get their first choice and the other will get their second. No matter which Grommet turns out to be, I’m sure that within an amazingly short time we won’t be able to imagine having ever wanted anything else.

Speaking of my father, I’m getting kind of tired of him insisting that he’s not psychologically ready to be a grandfather. Maybe he’s not but I think he should just darn well start keeping it to himself, or preferably just get over it already. He also keeps verbally pushing back the delivery date as in:
“By April…” (answer: “That’s early February actually.”)
“In another 9 months…” (answer: “You mean, another 6 months.”)

Oh, sigh.

For those keeping score at home, I passed the 13-week mark yesterday. I keep expecting any day to try to put my pants on in the morning and fail but so far, so good. My stepmother mentioned last night that she wore her regular clothes until she was 20 weeks! My friends, there is NO WAY I’m going to make it anywhere near that long. For one thing, she’d been so nauseous in the first trimester that she’d actually lost four pounds, for another, she was trying hard not to let anyone in her office know she was pregnant for as long as possible. She did admit that it was a huge relief to finally put maternity clothes on – her regular clothes had not been comfortable for awhile but she’d been grimly squeezing herself into them. My clothes are generally more tailored and fitted than hers were; as I think is the case for everyone really when they compare the clothes worn today to those worn in the late 80s/early 90s. Thankfully, the styles of maternity clothes have also improved drastically. She described the big, floppy pink bows that abounded on maternity clothes back then and remarked that she was having a baby, but makers of maternity clothes seemed to think she was the baby. Heh.

Speaking of maternity clothes, my sister in-law has generously lent me some maternity tops. I haven’t ferreted through my treasure-pile yet but I do know that there’s one in there that I actually saw at Thyme Maternity a year-and-a-half ago and I coveted back then. I remember wishing it came in non-maternity wear. Now, I have it! And I didn’t even have to pay for it. Ha!

I do know she and her husband will be trying for a second in the not-too-distant future so if we time things well so that we’re out of sync, she and I can trade stuff back and forth while we build our families. Maternity stuff may be expensive but if it gets to be worn through 3 or 4 pregnancies it seems a lot more reasonable.

Oh hey, before I forget, I’m starting to discover the joys of round ligament pain. It’s not constant but I did shift in my sleep last night and felt something seize up. I’ve actually felt it before but that was the worst twinge so far. It’s not as disturbing as you might think though from reading the description; while it’s unpleasant and it definitely helps to have run into a reference to it before which alleviates the “worry about the unknown” factor, I can tell it’s originating from outside, though near, the uterus. The deep crampy feeling I get from the uterus itself during “that time of the month” definitely feels different and I know I’d be très freaked out by that sort of feeling instead of this more “stabby” pain.

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