Tomorrow is the big ultrasound day. In all my genius mental state, I suggested bringing Sam, forgetting that we hadn't even really started talking about the baby in his presence yet. WHAT IS WRONG WITH MY BRAIN?
So we started in slow this weekend with the concept that there is a new baby in mommy's tummy. I wasn't sure he "got it" until he looked at me Saturday afternoon, unsolicited, and said, "I wish we would have a girl." Well...hello! OK! We'll see what we can do for ya, kiddo!
So, of course, last night I was up most of the night wondering about the status of the Beast. Did I feel the requisite movements? Oh, heck, I'm only 19 weeks...it's not until 20 weeks you're supposed to count 10 kicks in two hours. And then my brain got caught up in a math problem. 10 kicks in two hours...what if I start at 1am and count until 2am but then restart the clock? I mean, who decides what two hours you're supposed to use anyway?
And I'm having real trouble adjusting to the gestational diabetes diet. It has brought up a LOT of unresolved feelings of anger that I'm carrying around with me. See...I did EVERYTHING I was SUPPOSED to do the last time. And I'm sure you can guess where that thought leads me...
But I'm happy to report that as of this morning's coffee, the Beast is still alive and kicking.
***edited to add : the kick count requirement is per my gestational diabetes nurse counselor...I presume it's earlier than most people because I grow big babies and therefore can feel more than most people a lot earlier. It still doesn't fix the math problem...which I'm going to ask the OB about tomorrow.