Tremors

This week I am in my 28th week of pregnancy. GAH how time has flown. My body is making the transition from the second to third trimester, so I guess you could say I’m entering the home stretch. I see the light at the end of the tunnel, and I’m ecstatic and TERRIFIED at the same time. Good God, I’m going to have a BABY. Fine time to freak out, right? But I’m not really freaked out, per say. Just anxious.

The last few weeks have been fun. Well, fun for me. Non-preggos would surely look at me in shock when they see that my idea of FUN is reclining on the couch or in my hammock in a big tshirt and fat pants with my hands plastered to my belly. Giggling. Before I got pregnant I’d look at anyone doing that with a raised eyebrow, contemplating calling the loony bin to make that crazy lady a reservation. But now I get it – I understand the fuss and obsession with hands-on-belly. Because Luke has been on the move! I can feel him spinning around, flipping upside down, stretching, and occasionally getting the hiccups. It never gets old. Even better, he’s strong enough now that you can actually see my belly move in response to his movements. Usually it’s just little flicks – in response to the more frequent kicks and jabs. It looks like my stomach twitches – just quick enough to make you second guess whether or not you actually saw my belly move. HOWEVER – there is absolutely no doubt when he is flipping over. Have you ever seen the movie Tremors? Remember the way the ground mounded up as the worm-creature moved under the surface? THAT’S about as accurately as I can describe what my belly looks like when he’s flipping. Some days it’s so bizarre that I feel like I should take my belly-show on the road and join the circus. Seriously – can your stomach do that?

Aside from my sci-fi belly movements, I think I may be getting into the nesting phase. I’ve always been an overly organized person. I feel like my house is a wreck if there is mail scattered across my kitchen counter or more than a dish or 2 in my sink. Right now our office has a few random boxes and other odds and ends sitting in a corner because we haven’t figured out where to put it all in the new house. And it literally pains me to walk by that room. It drives me nuts. But lately, my obsession with all things organized has gone into overdrive. Kevin was gone on a job this past weekend, and I saw that as the perfect opportunity to get our house in top shape. I hung pictures. I dusted. I moved stuff that we’d bought for the nursery into the nursery (instead of the random places that we’d just set the bags down whenever we got home with it). I put a lot of random “homeless” items into a hidden closet so that it was at least out of my sight (which totally reminded me of Monica in an episode of Friends). I ordered the nursery furniture that Kevin and I had picked out, which ultimately led to me sitting in the middle of the nursery floor imagining different ways to situate the furniture once it got there. For whatever reason, that led to me hanging up baby clothes that Kevin’s mom bought and mailed to us. Hanging up the new clothes led to me rearranging the way everything else we’d already bought for him was hanging. I sorted the clothes out by age/size. And then mixed it all back up because I felt like my OCD was getting the best of me. And then fought the urge not to sort it all back out. If you walked in the nursery right now, it’d look like an empty room. Just some tiny outfits hanging in the closet, a pile of shopping bags lined up against the wall, a bedding set still in its packaging, and a gallon of paint waiting to be opened. After this weekend, hopefully the walls will be painted and the furniture will be delivered. Then I can shift my obsession to the details and begin wrapping my brain around the craziness that is creating a baby registry.