I just weighed myself on the bathroom scale. The needle hasn’t moved in the past couple of weeks, despite the exponential growth of my waistline.

According to today’s result, my net weight gain is 5 lbs. If you consider the weight I lost during the first trimester and subsequently gained back in the second, then it’s approximately 8 lbs. I’m only 5 months along and I feel huge already, but maybe that’s just me having a hard time adjusting to my new silhouette.

I think I need to buy bigger underpants.

Thank God tomorrow is Friday. This morning, I woke up thinking it was Saturday. Can you imagine the disappointment I felt when I realized that it was only Thursday? Devastating, I tell you.

I meant to post a photo of my baby bump today, being that today marks 20 weeks — my halfway point.

Unfortunately, though, Hubby’s old Dell desktop finally kicked the bucket, which prompted a run to Best Buy to purchase a new laptop. It’s been 3 hours and I’m still working on setting it up. The most time-consuming part of the whole ordeal is burning the recovery disks, which do not come with the laptop. Irritating.

But this is not about the laptop, this is about me… and making it to week 20! (Boy, how vain does that sound?)

I’m a little worried about how large my tummy has become, seemingly overnight, and whether it means I’ll be carrying HUGE by the time I hit week 40. I have an ultrasound appointment this Saturday, so I’ll ask the doc. I’ve been walking everyday with Hubby in hopes of managing my weight and maintaining a healthy pregnancy. I suppose the doc will tell me whether it’s working or not.

Oh, and about that photo? I’ll try to take one tomorrow.

A pregnant woman’s bulging tummy is like a magnet. People flock to it and feel compelled to reach out and rub it as if doing so would bring them good luck. Now I know how the golden Buddha statue in the lobby of the California Hotel feels, his abdomen regularly molested by every passerby in the casino.

I don’t mind that much, really. It’s nice to see people excited about the precious miracle growing inside this pot belly of mine.

In the past couple of weeks, my stomach really made some fantastic progress. I’m visibly pregnant now and five people last week told me on separate occasions that I’m starting to waddle.

It begins.

At 18-1/2 weeks, I’ve officially retired my pre-preggie wardrobe. I’ve been wearing my pair of “fat jeans” in comfort up until this week, when I discovered that zipping them up would require me to suck in — which, honestly, isn’t possible anymore. I suppose I could still wear them with a bella band and live in denial for a few more weeks, but I figure that I might as well relent and embrace my new preggie body. I also stopped wearing my cotton, button-down dress shirts to work last week when I found my protruding tummy straining against the fabric and looking quite unkempt. Hubby, in his ever-diplomatic way, said gently, “I think it’s time you start wearing your maternity clothes. I’ll take you shopping to buy more clothes, if you want.”

So, today after Hubby came home from work, we hit Motherhood Maternity in Waikele. Hubby is my favorite shopping companion. He has a knack for choosing items that I would never have considered myself that end up looking great! He gives me objective feedback and is never insulting when he critiques an outfit. This is particularly helpful since I might often rationalize a poor fit if I like the color/style, but Hubby will gently talk me out of it. Hubby is a man’s man, so you’d never think that he was a closet fashionista, but he is.

I left with a few new pieces, nice additions to my growing maternity wardrobe. When I got home, I did a quick purge of my closet and dresser and filled a trash bag with items to donate.

It’s the first step to embracing the baby bump.

Tobi the Japanese Spitz

I stole this photo from Hubby’s Vox. (Yes, Hubby has a blog, but it’s only open to his Vox “neighborhood”.) He took this photo with his camera phone. The clever title is his, too.

Every time I look at this picture it just makes me smile. I just wanted to share.

When you’re pregnant, the last thing you want to see on your cute cotton panties is red.

Last night, just before retiring to bed, I discovered that I had started bleeding for no apparent reason. Immediately, thoughts of complications, months of bed rest, or even worse: miscarriage, flooded my mind. I headed straight for my “What to Expect…” book and turned to the “when there’s a problem” section on bleeding. From the reading, I determined that since the bleeding wasn’t heavy and wasn’t accompanied by pain, that I could wait until the morning to call the doctor. In the hours that followed, it was difficult not to let the what-ifs plague my thoughts. I fell asleep with my hands on my tummy, lifting silent, yet tearful prayers for Baby Champuru.

This morning, I called the doctor’s office as soon as they opened and they squeezed me into the schedule.

The nurse took my weight and recorded in my chart. “Wow, you gained a lot of weight,” she remarked. Pregnancy is the only time it is acceptable to make comments about a woman’s weight. I didn’t think I had gained much weight at all, but then I remembered that I had also lost a good amount of weight at the beginning of my pregnancy thanks to the travails of morning sickness.

The doctor emerged from an exam room and peered at my chart, making notes. “You gained 8 pounds?!” she exclaimed.

All of a sudden, I felt like I had to justify myself, “Well, I seem to be eating a little better than before and I had lost a lot of weight in the beginning…”

She seemed satisfied with my stammering excuses,“okay, so you’re back to normal then.”

Just yesterday I weighed myself with my bathroom scale and I was 5-pounds less than the reading on the scale at the doctor’s office. Either the shredded mini wheats I had for breakfast were sitting in my stomach like a 5-pound brick or my bathroom scale is wrong. I blame the cereal.

Then she joined me in an examining room with the Doppler. She scanned my abdomen for what seemed like forever and I didn’t hear anything on the monitor. She kept clicking a switch and I started to get worried. Was she having a hard time finding the heartbeat? She must’ve saw the alarmed look on my face because she said, “it’s not you, it’s this machine. I can’t even get it to turn on.” Phew!
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With the help of her nurse who has a way with electronics, she managed to get the Doppler working and quickly found Baby Champuru’s strong heartbeat. “The baby is just fine!” she announced and switched off the monitor.

The doc did an internal check, reviewed my ultrasound results from the specialist, and determined that the bleeding was most likely caused by the placental sac of an embryo that began to form but didn’t make it. (This is the anomaly that they found in my ultrasound that had caused some concern initially.) It was degenerating and was now being expelled. She said that this was actually good news since it’s better for it to be expelled than to back up and “bother” the current pregnancy. Yes, please don’t bother Baby Champuru.

She also reported that the results from my integrated blood screen were excellent. “Baby got an A+ on this test!” doc said. That also means that I don’t need to do an amniocentesis. Thank God!

So, good news all around. Also, doc scheduled me for another ultrasound with the specialist to follow up, which means more pictures of Baby Champuru in a few weeks.

This whole episode made me realize how fragile and precious this pregnancy is. It truly is a gift and a blessing, one that I will not take for granted.

I received this in my e-mail and thought it was totally hilarious. What would you do if you picked up your cake and saw this?

This is how the conversation probably went:

Costco Employee: “Hello dis Costco, I can help you?”
Customer: “I would like to order a cake for a going away party this week.”
Costco Employee: “Wot you like on da cake?”
Customer: “‘Best Wishes Suzanne’” and underneath that, ‘we will miss you.’“