That's spelled "Jicama" and Baby Madeline is roughly the size of one now at 32 weeks. She now weighs approximately 3 & 3/4 lbs. and is about 16.7 inches long. These last 8 weeks she will gain about 1/2 pound a week. Let's hope that she stays within that range and doesn't follow the family tradition (on both sides, no less) of large babies. And for those of you that haven't already googled it - a jicama is a Mexican potato or turnip. It has a sweet and starchy flavor which I think is a most fitting description of our baby girl. I'm quite sure that she'll be a sweet baby girl, but please do not be confused - she's also just as determined and strong willed. Just ask any of the ultrasound technicians in the surrounding High Point area, or lend me your ear and let me tell you all about her latest antics.
Our 32 week appointment was today and all is well and good for Baby and Mommy. Madeline is measuring right on target, heart rate was good and she's still head down. All good things. If she will just stay head down over the next 2 weeks, we'll be out of danger of her being breech. Most of the time, by 34 weeks, the baby is too large to change positions and will stay head down. So let's hope our little one obliges our wishes. Breech is no fun for anyone involved.
So last night I went and had a prenatal massage, provided by my wonderful husband - he actually gave me 2 for my birthday and I've been saving them until the end. Lately my back has really been starting to bother me, so I caved and scheduled the first massage. Oh, my, sweet goodness - that was better than chocolate, wine, expensive jewelry - you name it! Words just cannot describe the relief and utter relaxation! That saintly woman was a God sent gift to pregnant women. I am convinced that prenatal massage should be a standard part of your pregnancy care. In fact, every OBGYN practice should employ a massuese. Think of it! Everyone benefits. The pregnant women go in miserable, and come out in a state of bliss. Which makes life much easier for their husbands and anyone who they come into contact with. I'm telling you it's a no brainer.
Anyway, the massage brought Madeline and I a little bit closer - we connected you could say. I forewarned the massage therapist that baby girl was quite the active baby, and generally likes to extend her arms and feet as far as the constraints of my stomach will allow her - meaning that my stomach moves and takes on odd shapes pretty consistently. She insisted that this would not phase her and I doubted her sincerity. I mean even at 32 weeks, it still seems a bit alien like to me. Sure enough the entire time that she was massaging my legs, arms and back, little Madeline was busy as a bee. She moved all over the place, kicked, threw punches and jabs, stuck what I firmly believe to be her butt, straight up and out - pushing my stomach walls further out than humanly intended. Until the lady started massaging my belly. It was like magic. For a mere 10-15 minutes, she didn't so much as flinch. No kicks, no punches, no movement. My belly was serene and for a short period of time I could remember what it was like to be the only person living inside of my body. Once her hands left my belly - the moment passed - and Maddie was right back to her normal antics. And it hit me that we have something in common. We both loved the massage. She must have enjoyed it when my belly was being massaged because she sat perfectly still. I can just imagine her little limbs going limp with relaxation, and when it was over, it was almost as if she was pleading - no, don't stop, come back! Do that again! And there in lies our connection. I wanted to do the same. I didn't want that massage to stop - ever. So I went home and forewarned Mike that although the massage was the best gift he could have ever given me, and while I was ever so grateful for his thoughtfulness, it may have been a bad idea. We had just exposed our baby daughter to one of life's little luxuries and I believe that she may be hooked. He just smiled. All the while I couldn't help but think, poor Mike, he doesn't stand a chance. He's going to be outnumbered 3 to 1 by the females in our household - that's more girly stuff than most men can handle. So come April or June you may find my husband camping out on a football field, golf course, or a basketball court, trying to find purge himself of any residual levels of estrogen he picked up at home. Meanwhile, Baby Madeline and I, we'll be at the spa, enjoying a massage or two.
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