20 Weeks

We've made it half way!!!! 20 weeks down, and please G-d, please, another 20 weeks to go. According to my nifty iphone app, our little mister is the size of a banana. I think he's the size of an extra large banana, because he's been measuring a week ahead consistently. The occasional popcorn "is that gas or the baby" feelings went away and were replaced by internal thumps, bumps and rolls. Some take me by surprise and I have to stop for a second because I feel as if I might fall down. The Brain asked me how they feel, and I said "you know those balls that glide? That have the clear plastic outside with the oil and another ball on the inside that wobble around as the ball glides forward? It feels like that." I used up my zofran today and had to have it refilled. 20 weeks, not really throwing up, but still having nausea. The spotting is gone! I'm still finding bits of black crinone that have been hiding up my vag for the last 10 weeks. An occasional reminder of those scary times. I've become obsessed with being afraid of incompetent cervix, leaking amniotic fluid and other irrational fears, but only on bad days. In a moment of weakness I invited my mother to the anatomy scan with me this coming Friday. I thought she might enjoy it, and I'm trying to give her every chance to be involved and enthusiastic. Her complete lack of interest and emotional support is driving me crazy. I'm trying to be the bigger adult and continue to reach out to her and provide her with opportunities, but I'm pretty close to throwing my hands in the air and writing her off. That's another post, that I didn't bother writing because to bitch about how my dad said, "oh I wanted a granddaughter" when I told him it was a boy, or how my mom said she'd touched pregnant bellies before and I had to remind her that she had NEVER touched mine just to get a half hearted pat out of her, would just be draining. So back to this anatomy scan...Silly me forgot that my mother knows nothing about my ginormous phoenix tattoo, that will appear even bigger since it's stretching. I'm hoping if I don't say anything and play it off like "what massive tattoo are you referring to?" that it won't turn into a big fight that ends up with my mom not talking to anyone for a couple weeks until she seeks therapy...AGAIN. Have I mentioned that the Brain reads a chapter of Pinocchio to my belly each night? Or how my belly popped out so that even when I'm laying down it's still visible? We're totally giddy these days, and in love with each other and our baby. Despite the fear and worry, it's like the clouds have lifted, giving rise to a bright sun (hot too at 107 these days) and we can smile up at the sky once again. Ok, yep...with that, I'm ending on a cheesy note.