go ahead, judge me

weeks 23 & 24 cape may, nj

July 20:  There are two refrigerators at our actor housing.  And, for a span of about five weeks, there are only two of us actors occupying the house, so I end up with a full size refrigerator to myself.  In the freezer can be found three separate half-gallons of three separate flavors of ice cream.  

Judge me.  Go ahead, judge me.

July 21:  People ask me all the time if I get weird cravings.  While in Cape May, I discover Tommy's Hot Dog Stand.  I have not had a hot dog in twenty years, and now I eat them daily.  This goes on for several weeks before someone informs me that hot dogs are on the pregnant lady's do-not-eat-list.  I grudgingly decide to give them up...  But not before I finish the remaining seven in the fridge.

Go ahead, judge me.

*  PS the Mayo Clinic says pregnant ladies can eat hot dogs and lunch meats only if they are cooked "until steaming hot."  Which I do.  I mean, c'mon, it's called a hot dog.  To eat it any other way is positively canine...

July 22:  Lying in bed, I see for the first time, Little Fetus Froo Froo moving under my belly skin.  Naturally, I do what any 2014 mom-to-be would do while separated from her partner:  I try to take a video to text to sheffield.  Froof is camera shy at first, but eventually puts on a pretty compelling performance.  Sheffield is adequately weirded-out.

 

July 23:  Five months pregnant.  

Officially over the hump.  

Nowhere near over the bump.

July 24:  My friend pauses in conversation with me to note my meal:

FRIEND: You're eating a peanut butter and peaches sandwich.

ME:  Yeah.  Wait, is that weird?  You have to tell me; I've lost all perspective on weird food... I'm also really really into cole slaw on sandwiches.  Is that weird?... Cauliflower as a main course followed by cookies 'n cream ice cream?... Should I be eating this stuff in private?  Wait.  No.  I'm making a person.  

Go ahead.  JUDGE ME!

July 25:  Carrot cake for lunch.  Carrot cake snack.  Carrot cake for breakfast in the morning!

*sigh*

Go ahead, judge me.

July 26: 

July 27:  24 weeks.  Froof is the size of a cantaloupe.  And I throw up.  Twenty-four weeks!  This shit is not normal!  

(Though, perhaps, I should lay off the carrot cake...)

July 29:  I know most people refer to fetal activity as "kicking," but that doesn't seem quite accurate for what Froo Froo is doing...  Her movements are rhythmic, but irregular.  Syncopated, and spacially spread out.  And she seems to be using all four limbs plus her rump.

Oh, god.

She's twerking.

July 30:  Mama's first maternity top arrives in the mail.  I text these pics to Sheffield.  He is unmoved to the point of non-response.  Will someone please make a big deal out this with me???

July 31:  I go shopping for a few more necessities:  a bra that fits (surprise, surprise), several new pairs of underwear with forgiving waistbands, and, yes, I cave and buy some adorable onesies.  

Aug 1:  I know I said I would post belly pics, but aren't you enjoying the suspense???  Instead, to satisfy the enquiring minds, here is a picture of my legs at 23 weeks:

Aug. 2:  I wear my cute new undies with the forgiving waistband.  Then I sneeze.  Now I have to change underwear.  (Don't think about it too long.)