Bumpdate

I've been exhausted lately!

Why did no one tell me this baby-growing business was so tiring? Oh, wait...I'm pretty sure EVERYone has said it at one point or another.

I'm now almost 24 weeks (!) and I've popped!

Here's a picture of the lil peanut, taken about a week and a half ago.
And here's a picture of me at 21 weeks


And again at 23 weeks

Isn't it amazing what 2 weeks does?

Also, please pardon the gay bathroom picture. I truly do not have a full-length mirror in my house and work, although the bathroom is less-than-desirable, will have to suffice!

I've been feeling great with the occasional heartburn. I bought costco-sized containers of tums the other day - one for my desk at work, and one for the house.

I've been worrying lately about not feeling the baby move as much. It's ridiculous. I know it's ridiculous, yet I'm unable to stop being paranoid. Last night I dragged Ryan to the store to pick up one of those baby womb-sound amplifiers. Thirty minutes later and my worrying was still there. Don't waste money on it. I promptly returned it today and last night ordered an FDA approved Fetal Doppler on eBay. Yeah...so...I'm a little anxious, what can I say. Peace of mind is worth the $48 I forked over for a little piece of equipment that will let me hear our little bebe's heartbeat. And I've decided that since I've gotten bigger, I'm just feeling the baby differently.

Of course, as I type, the kid's going crazy and I can totally feel them moving. Of course!

Here's something amusing.

Baby dreams. I have been having the funniest and weirdest dreams.

A few weeks ago I dreamt we were at the Alexanders for Christmas. But it was like National Lampoon Christmas - extended family, little kids everywhere, etc. So many kids that there were kids sleeping on stairs and so in the middle of the night on Christmas Eve/Early Christmas Morning I had to step over kids.

Apparently in the middle of the night I delivered the baby myself and handed him to my mother-in-law so I could get some sleep and whatever. So Christmas morning everyone gets up and gathers around the Christmas tree and my MIL comes in holding the baby and asks Ryan, "so what are you naming your son?"
Ryan wanted to consult with me--how considerate--and pulled me aside for a minute, wanting to get the ok for the name.

Chelsea: Okay, what do you want to name him?
Ryan: I think we should name him Britton Smoker Alexander
Chelsea: Smoker? Smoker. Hmmm...Where did THAT come from? Really, Smoker?
Ryan: (after a pensive pause) What?....I love barbecue!


Since this dream, Ryan's been referring to the baby as Smoker.