Week 25

I've just returned from a wonderful weekend in California visiting Madeira friends Sarah Quainton, Dara Trought MacDonald and Jessica Watson. We three girls threw a baby shower for Sarah, which was a roaring success, if I dare say so myself. Sarah and I had a chance to compare bellies - she wins. She's due in six weeks and is expecting a girl. One of her friends brought her four-day-old baby to the shower - a most impressive feat. It was fun to see the little guy but I was way more fascinated by the new mom. While everyone else ogled at the baby, I stared at her, trying to detect how tired and haggard she was, asking questions about the first few nights as a mom, checking out how insanely bundled the baby was and scoping out the 50 pounds of gear she had brought with her. Sarah made off with quite a loot herself and spent Sunday afternoon after we left putting stuff together and organizing - who knew it could be so fun!

We spent four days walking around the Venice Beach and Marina Del Rey area, enjoying beautiful weather and the beach and eating A LOT. The girls surprised me Saturday night with a birthday dinner at a family-style Italian restaurant where the waiters make you sing and clink glasses throughout the course of the evening. Think: When the moon hits the sky like a big pizza pie....

The flight went well. On the way out, Scott and I flew on the same plane but he was offered the emergency row seating with its extra leg room and took it. I asked if they had another seat in that row and the guy looked me up and down and said I wasn't allowed sit there "in my condition." Sometimes I forget that other people can plainly see that I'm pregnant, and out-of-the-blue questions from strangers like, "How many months," leave me staring blankly back like an idiot. So, anyway, my adoring husband left me sitting by myself ten rows back. I passed the time entrenched in Memoirs of a Geisha.

In both directions, we hit a lot of turbulence so the seat belt sign was always on and I had to keep making mad dashes for the restrooms between bumps and jolts, climbing over people as I went. I drove home late last night and hit not one but two fast food restaurants on the way. I tried to be reserved at Kentucky Fried Chicken and only got the three-piece strips, but when I passed McDonalds I had a sudden craving for an apple pie. The cashier asked me if I wanted two for a dollar and I said, "One is enough," remembering that I had my doctor's appointment along with dreaded weigh-in session today. "That will be 97 cents," he said. So I ended up telling him just to give me two, and of course I ate them both on the way home.

The weigh-in went fine anyway, and I've gained about 19 pounds total. I think I've mentioned that my doctor is the scale Nazi. Everything else looks good - my blood pressure was 118 over 70, baby's heart rate is 148 bpm, loud and strong and he's moving around a lot, which they kept asking me about. I guess that's an important sign that everything is normal.

Scott is still in Cali with Justin, currently outfitting him for the wedding festivities.

I've sent some pictures from the trip. Enjoy!
Reid