Made in Richmond

I’ve had a couple people ask me how things are going with the Flipster. I then realized that I haven’t really gotten into how things are going so far on this blog. Mostly because I still can’t believe it, I guess.

We hit 13 weeks on Wednesday. Physically, things are pretty uneventful, which is the best we could ask for at this point. Weeks 8 through 10 or 11 were semi-rough. Mild morning sickness (I call it that because, really, it wasn’t as bad as it could be) and extreme fatigue put me into autopilot during those weeks, just trying to get through the day so I could go to bed.

Fortunately, the last couple weeks have been much better. I still have brief waves of nausea and once it gets past about 10:30pm, I’m pretty much checked out for the evening or else I will feel it the next day. But I’m starting to feel much more normal now.

I haven’t been getting to the gym much. The thought of driving somewhere to move around rather than rest was just too much at the beginning. Hopefully now that I’m getting my energy back, I’ll get on a more regular schedule.

Clothes are getting to be an issue. I’m not showing a lot by any means, but there’s enough extra bulge that it makes finding clothes I’m comfortable in a bit of a challenge. Most of my tops aren’t quite long enough to cover the belly and my rubber band-fastened pants. A trip to Target will probably have to happen soon.

I have a doctor’s appointment on Wednesday the 14th - standard stuff: a physical exam and I’ll get to listen to the heartbeat again. The following month we’ll have our second ultrasound where we could find out the sex, but we’re not going to. I had always thought I would want to find out, but the prospect of having that “It’s a boy!” or “It’s a girl!” moment during the birth is too irresistible to pass up.

Speaking of birth…no, let’s not speak about it. Not yet anyway.

Emotionally, it depends on the day. I transition from being overwhelmed with gratitude that things are going so well, to complete and total terror and feelings of inadequacy. Again, I imagine that’s normal. More often than not, I’m too overwhelmed with love for this little person to even talk about it.

My family and friends have been wonderful. This is the first grandchild on both sides and all parents are thrilled, offering just enough advice and only when asked. I couldn’t ask for anything more than that. Our friends are being incredibly supportive and constantly reminding me with their actions how blessed this kid will be to have them in his/her life.

And Ross. Excuse me while I weep for a second.

He’s a constant flow of support and love, always telling me that I look beautiful and taking it upon himself to make sure that the baby and I are getting everything we need. He’s dealt wonderfully with my occasional emotional breakdowns (taking the form of sobs or unwarranted yelling). I’ve always thought he had more capacity for love than me. These last 13 weeks have proven me right.