Well, the OB confirmed what strangers all over L.A. have been saying: My belly is bigger than usual for 32 weeks.
Of course, I have big babies, so she was not upset in any way.
Otherwise, things continue to look great: My total weight gain is only 20 pounds. With any luck, I'll get to stay under 200 pounds for the first time in any of my pregnancies. My blood pressure is low.
I'm going to get to go for another fancy ultrasound with the
high-risk OB -- not that there are any indications that anything is
wrong, just because he had seen some incidences of structural issues
with the babies turning up later in pregnancy and he's trying to help avoid surprises.
I'm not on the "ultrasounds are evil"
kick that I think I was for at least one of my pregnancies. I find with this baby
that I just don't care all that much about all the natural mama stuff. I
just want the baby out and healthy. I've had all my drug-free births;
this time I feel the need to just make sure he gets out as healthy as possible.
There's no question that life experience has changed me on that front. I've had two friends who have lost babies in homebirths; my sister had a baby die when she was 26 weeks pregnant. It's not that I don't lean crunchy anymore; it's that my natural-is-always-better perspective has been altered from a little Too Much Life.
Cooking with Jack: Sweet-Ass Potato Pie
4 hours ago