intimate*tryptophan*fistula

weeks 25 & 26 astoria, ny (home!)

Aug 3:  25 weeks.  Little Fetus Froo Froo is the size of an Acorn Squash.  And I am finally home.  I will miss performing --it could be a while before I'm on stage again-- but it will be nice not to have to fight the waistline of my Act One costume anymore.  Belly be free!

Aug 4:  Trying to register for baby things is such a racket.  There's just so much!  Seventeen webpages of swaddle blankets?  It makes me want to throw up.  

Or maybe it's just that I'm only taking half a Zophran pill now...

Aug 5:  It is unusual for me to sleep this much.  I sleep like a boss.  I can sleep anywhere, anytime.  Everyday, after a full night of sleep, I still sleep for one-two hours everyday.  (I know, live it up, right?)

Aug 6:  Nauseous again.  Now that my performing is over, I am prepared to be sick as I further wean off my anti-nausea pills (midwives' advice).  I listen to an BBC recording that states, among other theories, that studies show that babies whose mothers experienced significant morning sickness do better on intelligence tests.  

Ah, yes, I've suspected this all along, but now I am certain:  I'm going to birth a genius.

Aug 7:  Still trying to "complete" registry.  Seriously, Babies R Us?  That's a lot of fucking pink.  

cute in yer ute

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weeks 21 & 22 cape may, nj

July 6:  Little Fetus Froo Froo is the size of a pomegranate.  We've reached 21 weeks.

July 7:  My belly is growing daily now.  My fingernails are growing at a remarkable rate. And, of course, my boobs continue to test the laws of bodily proportions.  Thus, my spacial awareness has been compromised.  Today, removing my shirt, I stabbed myself in the nipple with my own thumb nail.  Thank god for you, blog.  To whom else could I confide such private matters?

July 8:  Friends ask me if I feel extra "hormonal", like, am I freaking out?  I say no, but then on reflection, I realize that I totally am, but hardly anyone sees it.  Because of my schedule,  I'm basically on my own until 7 PM at night, at which point it is my job to pretend to be another person.  Who is not pregnant.  Essentially, I am a new shade of crazy that I have never been before, but no one is around to witness it.  The exception, of course, is my husband...

f-bomb baby blog bump pics

weeks 19 & 20 cape may, nj

June 22:  Nineteen weeks.  Baby is the size of a mango.

June 23:  

 

June 24:  For the record, readers, I have heard your requests for bump pics.  But I have mixed feelings about posting these profile belly shots.  I am taking them, yes, from a very clumsy selfie angle, and I share them with Sheffield since he is the father and he is not here to see the week-by-week changes, but I'm just not sure I want to share them with my online community.
You will think I am vain (I am) and self conscious (I'm not), but there's more to it that that.  When I was not pregnant, these shots of other bellies made me feel jealous and judgy.  Now, reader, you have to admit, parent or not, that you too are likely to judge the size of a pregnant belly.  And one never knows how to respond to "you're tiny!"  (Is that okay?  Is something wrong with my baby?)  or "you're huge!"  (Is that okay? Is something wrong with my baby?... Wait, are you calling me fat? ... FuckOffIKnow!)  
Now, if I am not actually in front of you modeling my roundness, if you are gazing upon the bulge via the internet, you are even more free to express your opinions about how big or small I and the bump appear.  The thought of which does not make me entirely enthusiastic...