I think Tessa is practicing her yoga poses today. Some seriously weird things happening in there.

I saw my new (non-crazy) doctor again today.  I heart her.  I heart everything about her office – there are staff! and other pregnant ladies! and no one makes me cry!  She laughed when I said it was my first experience with the fetal heartbeat monitor.  Seriously, Doc Crazy gave me an ultrasound at every single appointment (she could charge my insurance significantly more for that).  My new (non-crazy) doctor took me off yet another prescription today.  I’ve gone from 7 pills a day (1 pre-natal, 2 antibiotics, 3 progesterone, and 1 iron) with Doc Crazy to 2 (1 pre-natal and 1 antibiotic) with new (non-crazy) doctor.  I hate taking medication so that makes me quite happy.

Everything still looks good with Tessa.  She was originally going to start my weekly appointments at 30 weeks to do non-stress tests but decided that everything is going well enough that she would wait until 32 weeks to start that.

And my saga with Doc Crazy isn’t quite over yet.  She randomly sent me a bill this week for $3500.  No indication what the bill is for other than “Outstanding balance”.  I sent her a little note suggesting she itemize the bill and submit it to my insurance before billing me directly for whatever crazy things she thinks I might owe her for.  My insurance covered all of the services that she billed them minus a few dollars here and there that I paid along the way.  I’m curious to see how this plays out…is there an entity that can mediate billing disputes with private doctors?  Because I’m not paying Doc Crazy a cent unless she can prove to me it is legitimate.

A flurry of packing and a very whiny child last night prevented any further details but several of you knew my appointment was yesterday and I didn’t want to keep everyone waiting.

I felt like yesterday was my first OB appointment. It was the first time I sat in a waiting room full of other pregnant women (bellies and boobs as far as the eye could see). And there were receptionists and nurses and blood takers and urine testers and doctors (plural) and cute posters on the ceiling to distract you while in stir-ups. Every person I spoke to questioned a couple of the things that Doc Crazy had done – that made me feel a little vindicated even though I know every doctor does things differently. The new (non-crazy) doc changed a few things. The ultrasound nurse was shocked that Doc Crazy wanted to sew me shut do a cerclage because she said my cervix was beautiful (made me blush…you just never know if anyone will notice those few extra moments you take to make your cervix look pretty).

They did the long ultrasound to check that all the parts are there and where they should be. Baby girl was curled up in a ball (no doubt pouting because she was hungry as usual) and wasn’t being incredibly cooperative but everything seemed to be there in the correct numbers and places.

Nothing much else to report – I liked the new (non-crazy) doctor and the staff. I think it was a good choice to change doctors and a huge thanks to Ashley for the recommendation.

Several of you asked about names…we have it narrowed down to 2. We each have a favorite. We are both pretty set on our favorites. (Oy…we haven’t even gotten into middle names yet and the 2 names don’t really go together so that isn’t a possible compromise.)

Miss Sabrina has a photo shoot today – off to make my girl clean pretty. Much easier than making momma pretty! Momma is thinking she deserves a non-fat, decaf latte this morning. Man, I miss real coffee. And beer. There is a solitary Stella Artois in the fridge mocking me and my inability to drink it.

And to anyone visiting me after I have the baby?  That basket of cookies in the last post is way more yummy and practical than balloons.  I’m just saying.

I finally bought the first item for the baby. I’m 25 weeks pregnant today – it seemed like maybe it was time to show some faith in this pregnancy – or at least stop waiting for the worst to happen. I stopped at a consignment sale on Friday. I was looking for an outside toy or 2 for Miss Sabrina since we will finally have some outside space for her to play. I saw a very nice motorized swing for $10. It has an activity center that snaps on the tray and is gender neutral. We have no toys or accessories for a baby younger than 7 or 8 months because Sabrina wasn’t home as a newborn. So I bought Sabrina a little ride on toy for the back porch and the swing for the baby. I then immediately called Steve and asked him to reassure me that the baby is fine and I didn’t jinx us by buying a baby item. (The baby hadn’t been moving quite as much the previous couple of days leading me to worry a little.) He assured me that everything was fine. I then called my BFF for the same reassurance (since she has a uterus she seemed more qualified to reassure me that quiet days from the baby are not cause for panic). We now have our first baby item and the baby has resumed its previous schedule of playing soccer with my bladder and rugby with my spleen so I feel better on that front.

Thanks for all of the compliments. I’ll post a photo in maternity wear which does highlight the fact that I am knocked up. And thanks for the young looking comments. There are days I have to crank up some old school Def Leopard and jam my little heart out to remind myself that there was once someone other than a momma in the rear view mirror. As for my lack of wrinkles, I’ll credit 3 things: genetics, avoiding the sun for the past 1o years (we won’t talk about the years prior to that), and the fat helps fill out the lines that were developing. Heh.

So here in maternity wear looking more pregnant:

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And do you think the fact that when I pull up my blog on my screen and Sabrina sees the little cartoon Michelle and says “Mommy!” – do you think that might mean I am on line too much? Of course she loves seeing the photos of herself on there – she points and smiles and says “Nana” (that is what she calls herself).

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Another right of mommy passage today – the child peed on the floor.  She doesn’t run around without a diaper on often because honestly I don’t feel like having to rub her nose on the carpet if she pees (kidding – I would just lightly smack her nose with a rolled up newspaper).  It was right before her bath and she was sans diaper and suddenly there was a puddle on the carpet.  Reminded me why I didn’t want another puppy.

Don’t you know not to poke the irritable pregnant lady?

Okay, okay, I have heard your demands requests so stop sending me emails about it. I am still not giving you the belly shot you want. I told you that would never happen my friends. But here are some 6 month photos for all y’all (did you know that y’all has a plural form? it does – all y’all…we learned it from the waitress at Shoney’s).

First, proof that with regular clothes on, I can pass for chubby rather than pregnant:

But this is what I see when I look down these days:

Okay, enough of my mug, here is some real cuteness:

And this weekend we discovered the Sabrina hates grapefruit. She loves oranges and will suck on lemons so it seemed like something she would enjoy. She didn’t agree with that assessment (this is her mid-gag):

Several of you asked in the comments and via email for a status update about the little one. I guess I’ve been so busy bitching discussing my changing of doctors that I haven’t given a status update lately. So Secret Agent (as I think of the baby) update:

Due date: July 31 or August 4 – depended on Doc Crazy’s mood on that particular day. I am almost 24 weeks pregnant.

Complaint of the day: A man obviously started these lies about pregnancy lasting 9 months. Did they really think that we wouldn’t notice that 9 months and 40 weeks don’t compute? I am 24 weeks (6 months) pregnant yet have another 16 weeks (4 months) of pregnancy to go full term. Nine months my expanding ass.

Gender news: None (hence the title of my post). Doc Crazy refused to decide if Secret Agent is a boy or girl. However, after 437 ultrasounds we never saw any protruding or dangly parts so I’m thinking pink despite my original conviction the baby was a boy. I’m guessing the new doc might let me know at my first ultrasound because she won’t be crazy.

How am I feeling? I’ve never had any delusions that I would be a happy, glowing pregnant woman. So far, it isn’t as bad as I thought it would be – but I still have a good amount of time left and the heat is coming. My chief complaints tend to be trouble sleeping mostly due to my hip joints aching at night and feeling like a beached whale. I miss wearing normal clothes. I miss browsing catalogs and pretending I might order things. I miss having more energy. I miss not making groaning noises when getting up off the floor. But honestly, it isn’t too bad yet. The baby is kicking like a linebacker. Steve has finally been able to feel it too. S/he is especially active in the evening and will usually settle on my sciatic nerve and play soccer with my bladder after dinner. I find pregnancy in general rather awe inspiring but just plain bizarre. I can’t get over the weirdness (not in a bad way) of this little human being inside of me.

Other random thoughts:

I’m never quite sure if I should be offended or complimented when someone says I don’t even look pregnant. I assume the person is being nice but did I look this fat and dress this ugly before? At the same time, it is nice to delude myself for a couple of minutes (until I catch my reflection) that maybe I don’t look so bad. I know how much I’ve gained and if I don’t look pregnant then I just look fat.

I think I’m starting to waddle a little. My walking only has 1 speed these days – slow stroll. When we go somewhere, Steve has to stop and wait for me to catch up.

I angered the baby last week. I was having my usual 3am struggle to find a comfortable way to sleep. On my side made my hips ache even with my body pillow (which I have dubbed my new boyfriend) and on my back is out of the question (it cuts off circulation to something important and I end up with a headache). So in my sleepy state, I must have flopped onto my stomach. Immediately I received many angry kicks to remind me that someone else has taken up residence there for the time being and to kindly remove my whale like girth.

Thankfully random strangers haven’t started trying to touch me yet. I really don’t anticipate them receiving a warm reception. I’m all about personal space when I’m not hormonal and cranky.

I have an appointment with my new doctor in 10 days. She was recommended to me by a friend down here so I have high hopes. Heck, at this point and I don’t care if I like her or not. As long as she doesn’t bring the crazy we are ahead of the game.

And to Miss Amy, my real life friend, I will admit you were correct in your comment.  I was 1/2 relieved at the lack of confrontation and 1/2 sad at being robbed of the fun of the chance to tell her what I thought.  I’m twisted that way.