So we had a good appointment this week at the midwives. Got to hear the little guy's heartbeat again, and all was well. Except the midwife we met with kept referring to my age. And putting me in the category of "older moms." Now I realize I'm well settled into my thirties. I accept that some days. So far my thirties have been far better than my twenties. And I do realize that as far as childbearing years, I'm getting up there a bit. But come on! I'm no Sarah Palin, am I? (It's been weeks since I've mentioned her in here... phew that feels good!) The experience was a bit unsettling. Also unsettling was the discovery of a small but persistent dark patch of hair blooming from my stomach. "It'll go away, Grandma Moses" promised the midwife. "And you're measuring right on schedule-- 21 weeks, Roberta McCain!" she added.
I began to think something was up the next day when I checked the mail and discovered an exciting offer for Scott-- from AARP! We think with all his golfing and golfing magazines that he must've slipped onto some sort of retirees master list somewhere. I have to say it made me feel a little better though.
In other dramatic news, I've been sleeping like crazy. After the midwife deemed Zyrtec safe to use, I've been taking it for my nighttime allergies (which may or may not be related to my cat sleeping on my head), I've been sleeping better-- but I think I clocked almost 12 hours last night. And then, due to the dreary day and my avoidance of writing more articles for work or performing mundane but much needed housekeeping tasks, I succumbed to a nap as well. So I am officially a cat now. I only wish there was a way I could bank all this extra sleep and use it later this winter and spring, when I will need it so, so much more.
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