It's strange but fascinating. I try to use the movements to figure out what position he's in, but it's hard to tell. Last week I had an ultrasound and he was sideways, his feet both up by his face; definitely not a position I would've ever guessed. He's supposed to turn head down soon. Getting ready to come out.
At the same ultrasound, the technician flipped a switch on the machine and it changed from the regular murky profile to one of those 3D views -- tech I didn't even know they had in this office, and which I've long made fun of for being creepy -- but oh, suddenly we were looking at his little face, this brand new person nobody had ever seen before. I haven't been able to stop staring at the printout. I'm so excited to meet him, see if I can recognize parts of me, of A, learn about who he'll be.
(Though somehow at the same time I manage to be petrified about what an enormous change this will be, worrying about how much it will suck to not have free time and flexibility and lazy weekend days, how it'll be hard and endless, worrying about turning into my mother. My brain can create an awful lot of anxieties in the space of 9 months.)
We went to see Inside Out in Colorado last week and the baby went crazy during the ukulele song in the pre-movie short. We played it to him again at home, from my phone, and the same thing happened. We have a tiny ukulele fan. I'd be embarrassed by his twee prenatal taste, but I'll just chalk it up to an early interest in Pacific island culture.
I'm just about 30 weeks pregnant, into the 3rd trimester, about to hit 7 months. I feel at the same time like I've always been pregnant and like I'll never actually get through all the things to do before November. The product research alone, guys, uggh. I spent this Saturday night cross-referencing registry recommendations lists from friends. With a highlighter. I'm a party monster.
Everything's felt so hectic lately (/always). I just counted and I've been on 9 out-of-town trips just in the past 12 weeks. (Chicago, South Carolina, DC, Boston, Kosovo, DC, Mexico, Boulder, DC.) I have two more next month for work, New York and DC, and then I can't fly anymore; I'm almost looking forward to being forced to stay in one place. All the in-between weeks have been packed full of doctor's visits; as if all the baby stuff isn't enough, I'm having all these problems with my eyes, my mouth, so I'm spending all my time at the dentist and ophthalmologist and rheumatologist and OB/GYN and feeling frantically, constantly behind on work because of it. This stupid, terrible body.
I'm usually so mopey towards the end of summer, because after summer comes fall and after fall comes HORRIBLE WINTER. This year, though, I'm looking forward so much to the cooler weather, the lower humidity, something to wear besides the same 2 pairs of maternity shorts. And Atlanta has its lovely long springs and falls going for it.
Still struggling with not feeling at home here; I was back in DC this week for work, as usual, and walking to the office in the morning, through all the energy of the city, so many different kinds of people and streets and things to see and do made me so happy. Today I discovered that the closest post office collection box here is A MILE from my house -- and I'm in one of the walkable neighborhoods. Behold my snobbery and muttering about places that call themselves cities. My drugstore is a 20 minute walk away, across a highway exit ramp, and making that trek in the scorching summer heat is so miserable it's almost unthinkable; but I hate driving everywhere! And for just a mile? I feel lazy and ridiculous. I still don't really know anyone here and I still feel cranky and tired just thinking about making new friends. All that time and energy and effort, and so few people turn out to even be worth it in the end!