So, It has been over 6 weeks since the biggest, best, little surprise of my (our) life was discovered. And more than ever, I am beginning to believe that I have some sort of guardian angel, white cloud, whatever you want to call it, assisting me at all times. This pregnancy has been significantly less hard on me than the previous two. I have been extremely nervous to admit this, because I am sure it will make all these now minimally awful symptoms explode and quadruple in severity. I still have pretty much every symptom in the book, and the exhaustion is near the level of Brock and Curtis, but I can actually function at work all day! It is glorious.
This fact, combined with the impromptu nature of the conception, and that the baby is due in a different time of year, most definitely means it's a girl. Right? RIGHT!?
Oh, and one huge difference, is that I began this pregnancy way out of shape. As well as up a few pounds from my baseline. I can tell. I already feel my pelvis "relaxing" which is the only way I can describe it. Being that the baby is only the size of a kumquat and my uterus only a grapefruit, it is not pressure per say. But it is something, and it's something I didn't experience until more like 20-24 weeks with the others. I am already contemplating getting some kind of support device for my back and belly. I never wore anything with the other two. And I already want to live in maternity clothes (thanks mostly to the bloating, but also to the extra pounds, and lack of first trimester weight loss.) Leave it to a girl to allow me to eat, therefore making me extra fat. Should I thank or curse her in the future?
Matt is pretty darn set that it is a boy. And Brock has said something about a sister EVERY time we ask about the baby. Curtis is oblivious, ohh Cutkiss. Only time will tell.