Tater Tot turns 25 fetal weeks old today. Wow, they sure grow up fast.
I was thinking about that this morning when I realized that I never really reported in from my last doc visit, since we left the office headed to South Carolina.
Despite my insistence that I had gained 3 pounds, the doc's scales said I'd lost half a pound. They were kind enough to call it breaking even. Sigh. Dr. T wasn't too upset, since last month's sonogram showed Tot was a monster child in the 94th percentile for size and measuring anywhere from 1 1/2 to 2 weeks ahead of schedule on most of the measurements. And my physical growth was fairly impressive. Tot's not exactly stunted. BUT, I was told to put on at least 2-3 pounds before the next visit in August. I'm TRYING...
While in SC Lauren noticed and pointed out that while I am indeed eating real food again, I'm not eating meat. I suppose I realized this but hadn't really thought much about it in terms of my lack of weight gain. For instance, several times we've gone out for BBQ and I've eaten all my side dishes and took my pulled pork home for Greg to have for lunch the next day. We'll go to a buffet and I'll get a plate of veggies and such and one tiny piece of chicken. The chicken may or may not actually get eaten. It's not that I don't like meat, my preferences have just started running to other things. So now I'm making the effort to eat meat more often and make sure I eat at least part of it first when I have it. Instead of going to Wendy's and getting a baked potato, I'll get a chicken sandwich combo with a baked tater and eat half the sandwich and half the tater. It's a compromise, since all I really want is the tater. Greg's also started practicing the age-old parental line of, "Two more bites..." Heh. I try to be good and do what I'm told, but I still haven't noticed a whole lot of improvement on my scales. I think I need new scales.
Anyway, in addition to the weight thing the doc asked if I'd started feeling movement. About that time Dr. T was measuring my tummy and got kicked. Tot's seriously active these days. Unfortunately, she prefers to do the majority of her womb remodeling when I lay down to try and sleep. Or when her father walks near by. Every time he touches my belly she starts moving. If I make a comment about her being quiet all day he'll just reach over and touch my tummy with one finger and sure enough, she'll kick him. We call this "Poking the Tot." She's going to be such a daddy's girl. And feisty. No idea where she gets that.
I go back in early August for another check up and to drink the nasty glucose testing Drink of Doom. I'm looking forward to that day. Blech. Guess I should lay off the Spree and peanut butter cups that week. Tell me again how I'm not gaining 10 pounds a month?