Diet Coke and Daisies: I'm not joining the 2011 fan club yet...

I made a huge, huge, huge mistake. I made a comment on a friend's blog that my #1 resolution for 2011 was to puke less. God did not think that was funny. At 11:45, right before 2011 started, the puking came like a tidal wave. I was too sick to fully count, but I'm estimating that I ended up puking around 30 times by 3am, when we were already in the emergency room. I am beyond grateful that God knew this near-death feeling was coming and Hubs was able to be home. He was out on a job but there was an engine problem on the barge so he got to come home. He arrive about 20 minutes after the mess was flying. It was generally an awful way to start the new year. I regret letting Cherie stay up to have midnight with me... instead of that special moment, she watched me get incredibly sick which terrified her. Owen thankfully slept through it. At the ER, I had 3 bags of IV and 2 hefty doses of nausea medication. We got home around 8:30 Saturday morning. The kids very sweetly let us sleep until 1:30.

We're not exactly sure what brought on that bought of stunning gastrointestinal pyrotechnics, but it paved the way for what is known as The Crud. I missed Monday and Tuesday at work, have had a Z Pack, and will start Tamiflu tomorrow. I hope to be able to stop coughing and "breathing" glue soon.

Thankfully, Eli has apparently been oblivious to it all. Cherie was really worried about him during all my toilet hugging, but I told her that he likes all the bouncing. His heart rate has been consistently in the upper 150's (when they checked it in the ER and then again today at my doctor's office.) He's about a foot long now, and quite the wiggler. I love the little thumps of him moving around! I was propped up on a bunch of pillows in bed the other day and Lucie came and laid across my belly. Eli was trying to kick her, which cracked me up (and then made me cough for 5 minutes). My doctor was beyond pleased by his last ultrasound images, going on and on about how great he looks. He's growing at the right pace, anatomy is proportional and looks as it should, etc. He's a healthy baby! When they weighed me today, I'd lost 3 pounds since my 18 week check up (I'm 21w4d now, was 18w2d then), which puts me back at 4 pounds under prepregnancy weight. My doctor isn't worried, because I was overweight to begin with. They want me to gain a max of 15 pounds during the entire pregnancy. Plus I'm sick and have thrown up a substantial amount lately. It stands to reason. And since Eli's growing on pace and is totally healthy, there's nothing to be worried about. Yay! (other preggos who gained a lot of weight, I am not bragging. I promise.)

I don't like to have my belly touched. Ever. Which is going to probably become an issue by my 3rd trimester. Basically, I've always been self conscious about the fleshiness of my belly, and then when I started doing insulin injections there which caused lots of bruising, and now I have my pump site there... its just not an area I'm comfortable being touched. There are now 2 exceptions, and they surprised me! I like it when Sheldon rubs my belly. Today at my check up, my doctor said, "Let's touch your belly." and started poking at it, measuring my uterus, etc. When he said, "the top of your uterus is right here *poke poke, grabs my hand to poke* which is exactly where it should be right now," I LIKED IT. So maybe it won't be as big of an issue in my 3rd trimester...

Speaking of my belly... I only really look pregnant in 1 sweater. Otherwise, I just look like the donuts call to me. I expected to feel a bit rounder by now. Subsequently, I'm not thinking I'm going to end up super huge. That's okay, but at the same time, it's a little disappointing because that's part of the fun of being pregnant.