Late Sunday night, Tyler finished his latest growth spurt. He started doing somersaults with his new, longer body. My stomach was like a virtual ocean. We could actually see it changing shapes and "doing waves" when he moved. Chad actually jumped back when he felt it, and I called the doctor, wondering if Tyler was going to flip himself right out of my belly. Good news: he's an active little guy. Bad news: every move he makes for the next 14 weeks will make me jolt.
The pregnancy reality-check continued into Monday, when I got my first set of Braxton Hicks contractions. As if I wasn't panicked enough after the earthquakes in my belly ... these uncomfortable, tightening sensations sent me into a mild case of hysteria. Chad took me and Tyler for a walk in the park, and I continued to drink glass after glass of water. They eventually subsided ... just in time for round three of third-trimester fun.
At 9:45 p.m., I got up and HAD to have Bahama Bucks! That shaved ice and sugar-free, pina colada syrup was just as important as breathing at that point. Chad quickly understood the importance of the situation and grabbed the keys to go. We had 14 minutes and 35 seconds to make it there before they closed. As we rushed out the door and backed out of the garage, we looked at each other and laughed. This was definitely good practice for rushing to the hospital for labor.
I'll be 26/27 weeks on Thursday, and I can sense that I've entered the crash-course phase of pregnancy. This is the part where it gets interesting ...
