I had energy. My body didn’t ache. On days when I have energy, when it doesn’t hurt to move, I don’t mind being this pregnant. Seven, ten, 24 days to go. Not sure when he’s going to arrive, but I still have yet to utter that famous end-of-gestation battle cry: “Get this baby out of me!”
Today I had another non-stress test. Still passing these with flying colors. And then I had another Pilates session (to make up for the fact that Thursday yoga and Friday swim class were canceled — dumb turkey holiday).
Then I came home and cooked. I made the spice-rubbed pork chops with roasted applesauce for lunch (since we’d already made the applesauce and I had some of the spice rub on hand as well) — a true husband-pleaser. After lunch I made the squash-and-cheese casserole, something I’d been planning to do for a while, but hardly could fathom standing up long enough to prepare it, of late. I even made the lentils-and-rice to go with it. And put both in the fridge — for whenever.
Per the previous post, the evening took us to a local photography supply store to get the needed wide-angle lens.
We ate the Syrian dishes for dinner. I wrote a post for Project Pregnancy. Scott went out and rented DVDs for us to watch.
Paris, Je T’aime played while he fell asleep on the couch and I tried to convince Molly to become a lap cat.