11 Weeks, 4 Days

Christmas is just days away here and already I'm looking forward to next year!
I keep thinking about how you will be here by then, will have been here for awhile and will have established your place in this family (no doubt living on a THRONE for the first several months as your family just positively drools all over you), and will likely be crawling around wrecking the joint by the time Santa makes his jolly ol' arrival.

THAT is hard for me to comprend right now as I sit here wondering how many more weeks until you are strong enough that I can feel your kicks.  It really shouldn't be long, normally I feel my babies pretty early on, between weeks 14 and 16.  That early though, I have to be lying SUPER still and be SUPER quiet and I will be lucky to get one good thump every few days but at least then I know it's always a possibility.  One of my favorite things about this upcoming part of the pregnancy is privately keeping tabs on you.  Sometimes I'll tell the rest of the family when you're up and playing...and other times I like to keep it to myself, tapping back here and there, poking you babies when you poke me. 

The other wonderful part of feeling you move is just knowing that you're okay in there.  Right now I still can't check in with you, I have no idea how things are going, other than you looked so strong and healthy when we saw you last week.  It's a major relief to feel those pounds and bumps because it's you're way of saying..."I'm good, Mama."

My body is changing quickly these days.  At first, it was really just my waist that thickened, quite literally, IMMEDIATELY upon receiving knowledge of you and then a small, round tummy appeared like magic.  I have no IDEA how it's possible since I don't keep half of what I eat, but I've gained a bit of weight at this point and my body has become all soft and curvy.  Very Mama-ish.  And truly, I don't mind this so much!  It's rather fun for me, a skinny girl at heart, to be somewhat voluptuous for awhile.  Now, I don't necessarily relish packing on the pounds but it also can't be helped.  Believe me, in the past four pregnancies, I've tried once or twice to eat really, really, really well and in those weeks where I ate my weight in carrots sticks and apple slices, I gained like nine pounds or something ridiculous like that.  I don't stray far from my normal diet (stupid cheesefries) but that doesn't mean that I don't gain any weight.

And it's ok, you know?  I don't own a scale (yet, but need to get one as the midwives request I do my own weighing) and do, especially towards the end, have to close my mind to my own inner voice that pronounces parts of me "pudgy" instead of "pregnant" but it's all apart of the game.  I'm not interested in counting calories or working out every single day in order to save ten pounds or whatever it may be.  I eat the best I can and I trust that my body knows what it needs and unfortunately for me, you babies like fat.  In every single one of my pregnancies, I am a starving fool for the first six weeks, eating nearly around the clock and finding that I do indeed crave...fat.  I'm guessing it's because my body, sensing the new renter, panics that I'm not going to have to caloric needs or stores to sustain two beings and therefore goes into that Cheesefry Mode :)  I'd rather like to send a memo stating otherwise but I fear it would fall on deaf ears.

So I'm fast approaching my favorite part, the one where my body fills out, the one where you start gaining fast and growing bigger, and the one where I STOP PUKING.

Though, might I just say for skinny girls everywhere, it's really, really fun to have big boobs.  And junk in the trunk. I don't hide my belly...or my new, um, accessories, preferring to show off my pregancy instead of keeping everything under wraps.  I happen to find being pregnant (and feeling well--this is a KEY component) very sexy.  There's something amazingly primal about growing a life and witnessing every stage involved in that, how my body's shape succumbs to accomodate you.  I love all of the changes and I feel energized and truly, just...full.

This is not to say that I don't also struggle there at the end.  Oh, I do.  When I've grown so full I simply can't imagine another inch or another pound ANYWHERE and yet, they just keep coming.  I'm human and at that point, I will not feel sexy and curvy, I will feel like a whale.  Waddling is never a good way to walk, you can't "work it" with a waddle.  And when the junk in the trunk starts over-flowing and the va-va-voomy boobs start leaking...well, let's just concentrate on the good stuff for now, shall we?  Because suddenly I'm re-considering all of what I just previously wrote :)

One more thing before I go--
I'd like to apologize for all the smashing of you going on lately.  These Littles, while they will love you to pieces upon your arrival, do not seem to care that you are like a captive in there and can not escape when they feel like launching themselves on top of me.  We took some good hits this weekend and I yowled as they battered my tender tummy and promise to try and shield you better.
At the same time, I hope you understand that this is the school of hard knocks over here. 
When I say your siblings will "love you to pieces" I mean just that.
Toughen up in there. 
It's CRAZY on the outside.

Loving you already,
Mama