I drink so much water, people. So very much. My OB recommended it as the best way to avoid constipation and the recent dizzy spells (or, as Kenneth would say, donkey spells) I've enjoyed. It works, but dude, I am swimming on the inside. My kidneys and bladder are going to demand comp time for several weeks after this kid is born. For serious.
My long-suffering stint with the overtime mandate at work is finally over, so I can now return to a paltry 40 hours per week. Huzzah! It happened at just the right time, since those donkey spells were starting to worry me and may have had as much to do with being overworked as with being somehow, inexplicably, underhydrated (damn you, orthostatic hypotension!). My newfound, copious spare time has afforded me the luxury of trying, however intermittently, to get in some exercise. I've spent a little time on the treadmill doing my best imitation of mall-walking ('cause running with jiggly boobs and belly is out of the question). I've taken advantage of the improving weather and taken the dog on longer walks. My next move is to sign up for a prenatal yoga class being taught at the local community center. It's a HUGE step for me, because I won't know anyone there and will have to -- gasp! -- make friends with strangers. So not my thing. (When KB and I go to a party, let's say a neighbor's Christmas party, and we actually carry on a complete conversation with total strangers, we leave the place fist-bumping over our extraordinary extroverted efforts.) I'm also interested in heading to the gym, where my monthly membership dues get debited like clockwork in my complete and utter absence, to start swimming. I'm not a great swimmer, have never loved swimming, and do not particularly desire to be seen in a bathing suit at this stage of my whale-like expansion, but I need more exercise and everyone who's tried it during pregnancy has assured me it's the greatest low-impact and pressure-relieving activity I could bank on. First, I have to find a swimsuit that fits. I tried going a size up at le Target (I like to pronounce it a la François) but that was a fail. I bought a maternity suit from OldNavy online, but it's meant for a third trimester whale, not a second trimester whale. I don't want to have 2 maternity suits, so I may just wear the slightly-too-big one and choose to really not care what people think.
And as for the fb question -- to post about pregnancy or not -- I am defaulting to "not" for now. While I'm more or less past the major paranoia about anything going catastrophically wrong, given a negative integrated screen and recent evidence of perfect anatomy and measurements, I am not all that interested in bringing mere acquaintances into the loop. What if it leads to a series of questions on fb, checking in with me? What if I am expected to provide regular updates? Bah. I have told all of my actual friends, the people I actually talk to and/or see outside of the fb-osphere, and I suspect that I overestimate how much the peripheral ex-classmates, ex-coworkers, etc. will care that they weren't privy to my big secret until the kid is born. I'll just tell them it was meant to be a surprise. Or, the absolute truth, that I've had a rough pregnancy and wanted to survive it in peace. Tru dat, y'all.