Polar Vortex 2.0

It's below zero here and I hate it. I'm escaping to CA soon while Nate's on production.

We've been on the hunt for a two-bedroom apartment downtown and it's been something of a trick. A few great places have slipped through our fingers, but that's the way it goes in Chicago. We will miss our tiny little one bedroom but I'm excited to have some space for baby girl.

Baby girl is getting big. Aka I'm getting big. It's been smooth sailing for the past couple of months; my sickness went away almost entirely right before the holidays, and I have had essentially no nausea since then, though I did get really sick at the end of a very turbulent plane ride and semi-violent landing... It was really embarrassing and I cried and some nice old dad gave me a hankie and took me to the American Airlines fancy member lounge to wash off and calm down. God bless good samaritans. This month, the main struggles I've dealt with are the searing back pain at night, not being able to zip up my coat, and congestion which leads to snoring which wakes us both up. Very glam.

When I went to Fiji in 2009, I learned about the amazing power of coconut oil and all the good it can do for your skin. My aunt is also a life and wellness coach and she uses coconut oil for everything, from cooking to sunscreen, and she recommended I use it on my face as a moisturizer once a week. I have been rubbing it on my belly to prevent stretch marks. The other night (well, I guess this photo was taken about a week ago) I suddenly burst into tears because my back hurt in my desk chair, so Nate gallantly moved my monitor onto the floor so I could work with my legs stretched out. Here's how awesome I am. (Also, how do people do this without husbands? There's literally no way I could manage.)

Today I'm 23.5 weeks along, almost to the beginning of my sixth month. Baby girl is due four months from yesterday. I still can't figure out how the math works for pregnancy. Common knowledge = 9 months of pregnancy. Doctor knowledge = 40 weeks of pregnancy. One month = 4 weeks, thus 40 weeks = 10 months. Not 9. How is this possible.

While it's still just the two of us, we've really been enjoying hanging out together and doing things like watching Seinfeld reruns while sharing a gallon of ice cream, going to our favorite restaurants even if it's 10:00, going to the movies, walking around the city pretending we're not freezing, and generally doing things we think baby girl might not want to do with us.

I have also gained almost 20 pounds since week one. I'm a little nervous because my doctor wants my weight gain to stay right around 30 pounds, so that my recovery is easier, mostly, but also so that I have an easier delivery. Usually I end up walking about two miles a day, but since the snow started, I have been going on the treadmill in my building and it's a little tougher to motivate myself to go down there while people judge me for eating almonds while I'm on the treadmill. Sorry, but when I get hungry, I have to eat. It's my life. There is no waiting til later. Just ask the baby.

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