Lucidia Lohman

Am I Really That Old? (With Pictures!)

I can hardly move in here. And it’s dark.

Apparently, I am 33 weeks old, and I’m making sure Mom feels every minute of it. I’m pretty sure I’m at least 4 pounds right now. Maybe more.

Things have been hectic here, but all is well now. I was giving Mom a hard time for awhile as her body began adjusting to the weight gain, my never-ending bladder dancing, and this thing she calls “heartburn.” But I heard her tell Dad that she can sleep through the night now if she sleeps in a certain position. I still kick her though. Well, sometimes. It’s getting hard to move around in here. Things are getting cramped. I mainly just slide from one side to another and poke at this bladder. I get bored, so sometimes I’ll poke Mom’s ribcage. I love her diaphragm, too. It’s flexible. Great for my feet. Mom said she can’t breathe, but I don’t have anywhere else to go right now, to be honest with you, so feet in ribs and lungs will have to do.

These past two weeks, I have found out I can do two very important things: make Mom crave Mexican food (even Taco Bell when we’re low on cash) and hiccup—a lot. I think I hiccup 3-4 times a day. That’s crazy. But that Mexican food sure is worth it.

My favorite thing this week was when Mom was in a meeting with her boss, and I kept sliding, which I heard her say makes her shirt move (or something). So there she is, sitting there, with her shirt moving across her belly, trying to make sure no one notices! Oh, I’m a stinker.

It’ll get worse, Mom, before it gets better.

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