When I told my family at dinner last night that we'd hit third trimester, my dad revealed that he's been keeping track of the baby's medical viability outside the womb. "Lung development will be good by now," he said, "but vision would be poor." Having a doctor for a dad is always a hoot. (And reading about Grace's experiences being married to a resident gives me new respect for my parents as young'uns.)
We've been at my parents' for dinner the last two nights because Sunday is our traditional dinner-with-the-family night, which lately has turned into football night (for Frank, Dad and my brother) and get-the-latest-Rainbow-Loom-craft-from-Angela (for Frank and me). The Rainbow Loom craze has hit her hard, especially since she got a loom for Christmas. At least she knows her target audience—she keeps offering us trinkets shaped like wine bottles and wine glasses. We were over there again last night because I had the day off from work (thank you, MLK!) so we took the opportunity to hit up the Ikea near my parents' for baby ideas. We came home with a package of child water glasses, frozen meatballs, and cinnamon buns, but no actual baby supplies.
Lately I've been perfecting my master list of what we actually need for the baby—the theme is "minimalist" since our apartment is about as tiny as the name of this blog implies. One of these days I'm going to share the list on here so all you veteran moms can weigh in. Meanwhile I'll keep subjecting Frank-the-long-suffering to extended monologues on the benefits of travel systems vs. convertible car seats vs. umbrella strollers. Don't get me started on where the baby is going to sleep. Between the bassinet my mom has saved in her basement, reading about the benefits of co-sleeping from my former professor, and helpful relatives who told me their child slept in a laundry basket for his first 6 months and turned out just fine, I really don't know what to think. Is there a single aspect to this baby thing I haven't extensively over-thought? I think not.
Here, I thought you guys might enjoy a "bump photo" as I believe they are called:
This was taken right before I headed out for Chicago's annual March for Life (in warmer clothes, though). I so wish I could be at the big one in DC, reuniting with all my wonderful DC friends, but sadly that whole middle-of-the-week thing killed that plan. I posted a link to this article and video on Facebook with the accompanying message, "Loved this coverage of yesterday's March, especially the video. My baby and I marched on behalf of all the babies who have no one to speak for them. Now more than ever I realize how precious every life is."
It's true. Few things can bring home the horror of abortion more than realizing that my baby, to whom I feel so connected and whom I love so much—AND who is fully viable outside the womb at this point, albeit with probable health issues—could legally be killed if I felt differently than I do. Isn't that the most horrible thing you've ever heard? I can never get used to it, no matter how many times I think about it. I've already written a whole lot on here about participating in protests, so I'll leave it at that for now.
Today I worked from home because of last night's snowstorm that made the roads terrible. This is my third? fourth? snow day this winter (I lose count). Snow days never get old; I love it every time I get to work from home. Normally I take advantage of being home to cook a bunch of stuff (soup, bread) and clean the house, but today was so action-packed at work that I never even got around to making lunch.
Now I'm waiting for Frank to get home from work so we can meet some new friends for dinner (new friends who are also expecting a baby! Hurray for pregnant friends!). But first I must attend to a veritable Everest of dirty dishes, so I'll leave you here for now. Hope everyone is staying cozy and warm in this polar tundra.