7 months

Dear little one,
you're the reason I have started blogging again. I picture the day you're old enough for me to share this blog with, and hopefully you'll be interested enough in your mother's heyday to read all of this.

You move a lot now, reassuring me that you're fine. You moved particularly a lot after Loki used my belly as a launching pad in his streak across the living room. I was really worried and started googling "mild trauma to pregnant belly"("leads to maternal deaths"--what?) and gave Loki the cold shoulder the rest of the night. But you kept rolling, kicking, and fluttering your feet in every area of my belly. So I knew you were safe.

I wonder if you'll be this active when you're out of me. Will I be one of those hapless mothers running after a gleeful toddler who grabs at everything? Will you be frustrated in the swaddle I plan to get for you, a straitjacket for your flaying limbs? Will you become like one of our tan grow@nooners, spending three days a week at training and throwing around balls for fun?

It's hard to imagine someone who's a part of me, someday being apart from me. A totally different person, with different interests and thoughts. Will I know how to relate to you? Will you forget how to depend on me?

I unintentionally did a mean thing to your father the other day at Simply Bread. I told him how our friends went through a tough delivery, and the father had to choose between saving the mother or the child. They'd discussed it prior to this, so he chose the mother. In the end both were fine. But I know k will not be able to make that kind of decision on his own. So I wanted to talk about it.

"I think you should save the baby,"I said, "because I've already lived 30 years. I've had a very good life. The baby hasn't had a chance to live yet. So save the baby."

He looked at me for a few seconds, and then tears started spilling out of his little plum eyes down out of his round purple spectacles. I patted his hand and ended this horrible discussion.

But I want you to know that even before meeting you, I already love you this much. You don't ever have to be clever enough, or pretty enough, or anything enough to be loved by your mummy and daddy. Right now, while you can't see us or love us back, we love you entirely. We just want you to be healthy and to have your chance at life.

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Pregnancy update:

Workouts: once or twice a week. Still Bodyfit by Amy's prenatal workouts- strength, pilates, and bodyweight.

Belly size: enough to get me seats on the train, smiles from strangers, and kindness from shopkeepers (to leave me alone)

Appetite: I can squeeze more food in my belly now, but hardly crave snacks. Don't think I'm getting my extra 500 calories in. Tried eating yogurt but it always gives me the runs.

I miss: Cracking my back on the bed, blue cheese and brie, alcoholic ice cream

Baby gear: Hand-me-downs from Joel and Cherlyn, and Sharon's brother. Almost everything's in except the baby carrier and stroller, and small things like baby wipes. We bought a dresser from Ikea that will double up as the changing station. It was too heavy for k to carry by himself to the car, so he unpacked the box and loaded it plank by plank into the car, and then up to our living room. The planks and pieces are all lying in a heap there now, making our home smell woody.

Hormones: Been getting weepy when I watch birth videos / gender reveal videos/ any well-edited video about a stranger's journey with baby

Energy level: Walking is more difficult. If I hit close to 10,000 steps a day, I feel like dying. My butt and hips will hurt and the belly feels strained. But I have enough energy to cook a few times a week this month.