Baby girl is now long enough that I can feel her punching me on one side of my tummy and kicking me on the other side. She’s also practicing football rushing, because she’s constantly head-butting me. It was cool at first, but now it kind of feels like…
And that scares the crap out of me.
In other news, we recently discovered that one of our fellow posters on the birth board I often discuss was, in fact, LYING to us. She told us she’d given birth to her little boy at 23 weeks. He was in the hospital and doing well. She also said she was adopting the baby of her schizophrenic sister who drank while six months pregnant and tried to seduce the first sister’s husband. Interesting. Anyway, somehow someone came across a photobucket account with pictures of the baby this poster was passing off to be her own micro preemie. (It’s a real thing.) Somehow, a moderator was able to show that it was not HER photobucket account. So she made up all of this drama for attention on our birth board.
I must say, I was disappointed. This being my first pregnancy, and it feeling all Ripley-esque, I took comfort in the idea that I am now at 23 weeks and 3 days. If that woman’s baby could survive being born at 23 weeks, then my baby might have a chance, too, if something went wrong. But it was all lies.
A baby is considered viable at 24 weeks. I have only 4 more days until we are at that point. I will breathe a small sigh of relief, make faces when I feel her kicking me (like she’s doing now. Ouch!) and pray that I make it another 14-16 weeks. And no greater than 16 weeks. 40 weeks total is more than enough, thankyouverymuch.